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RURAL   (ECONOMY  OF   ENGLAND. 


Ancient  Trees,   at  the  south  border  of  "  Burnham  Beeches. 


L 


COLLECTED   PAPERS, 


(ORIGINAL  AND  KEPRINTED,) 


|ii  Uros^  antr  Uerst, 


1842-1862. 


By    MRS.    GROTE. 


LONDON : 

JOHN   MURRAY,  ALBEMARLE   STREET. 

1862. 

[y/je  rlyhl  of  iraiisLaiioii  ia  reserved.^ 


BY  THE  SAME  AUTHOR. 


MEMOIR 

OF 

THE  LIFE  OF  THE  LATE  ARY  SCHEFFER. 

Second  Edition,  with  Portrait,  Post  8vo,  8s.  6d. 


INTRODUCTION, 


The  desire  of  preserving  from  oblivion  some  literary 
productions,  which  may  possibly  interest,  if  not 
instruct,  a  certain  class  of  thoughtful  readers,  has  sup- 
plied the  motive  for  the  present  publication.  Among 
the  number,  some  few  relate  to  political  events  of 
which  the  public  have  ceased  to  take  account.  Never- 
theless, it  is  no  unprofitable  task  to  recal  attention 
to  a  bygone  condition  of  things,  wherein  the  germ  of 
actual  results  may  be  discerned.  To  compare  the 
past  with  the  present,  and  to  trace  the  inexorable 
connexion  of  cause  and  effect,  is  always  an  occupation 
becoming  a  reflecting  mind.  And  I  will  venture  to 
observe  that,  vain  as  may  be  the  attempt  to  fore- 
shadow the  course  of  political  events  in  these  days 
of  surprises,  I  am  confirmed  in  my  vicAvs  of  the 
probable  prospective  changes  in  the  position  of  the 
"  Eastern  question,"  by  all  that  is  now  going  for- 
ward in  countries  more  or  less  subject  to  Ottoman 
rule. 

As  to  the  opinions,  political,  economic,  and  social. 


370 


iv  INTRODUCTION. 

comprised  in  these  my  "  Essays  and  Reviews,"  I  can 
only  say  that  they  are  the  product  of  many  years  of 
attentive  study,  pursued  with  an  honest  desire  to 
arrive  at  sound  and  solid  convictions  on  various 
subjects  of  vital  interest  to  my  country. 

H.  G. 

London,  October,  1862. 


CONTENTS. 


REVIEW    OF    M.    LAVERGNES    ESSAY    ON    THE    RURAL    CECONOJIY 

OF    ENGLAND     . 1 

CASE    OF   THE    POOR    AGAINST    THE    RICH    FAIRLY    STATED  .  43 

REVIEW    OF   THOMAS     MOORE's     LIFE    AND     WORKS     (REPRINTED 

FROM   NO.    CII.    OP   THE    "EDINBURGH    REVIEW")  .  .  81 

HISTORY    OF    EAST    BURNHAM  .  .  .  .  .  .133 

ON    ART,    ANCIENT    AND    MODERN     .  .  .  .  .  .189 

VARIOUS   PAPERS  CONTRIBUTED  TO  THE    "  SPECTATOR"    WEEKLY 

NEWSPAPER.     1845 — 1852 : — 

POMMERSFELDEN  .......       205 

CHARACTER   OF   THE    REV.    SYDNEY      MITH    ,  .  .210 

FRENCH    POLITICS         .......       215 

THE    CITIZEN    PEER     . 224 

A    GLANCE    AT    MODERN    EUROPE  ....       227 

THE  "  situation"     .......     235 

A    RURAL    EXCURSION    IN    FRANCE  ....       240 

THE    WAR    FROM    AN    UNPOPULAR    POINT    OF    VIEW  .       246 

AN    ENGLISH    RAMBLE  ..... 


259 
271 


POETICAL    pieces: 

JOHN    HAMPDEN  ...... 

TO    LADY    THERESA    LEWIS  .  .  .  .  .277 

FELIX    MENDELSSOHN  ......       278 

STANZAS    ON    FELIX    MENDELSSOHN         ....       279 

LINES    TO    JENNY    LIND    GOLDSCHMIDT  .  .  .       280 

LINES       SUGGESTED       BY      MORE      THAN       ONE       RECENT 
DOMESTIC   HISTORY  ..... 

THE    LAW    OF    MARRIAGE     ..... 


281 
284 


RURAL   (ECONOMY   OF  ENGLAND. 


1.  Essai  sur   I'Economie  rurale   de   VAngleterre.      Par   M.   Leonce 

de  Lavergne,  de  I'lnstitut.     1854. 

2.  Gishornes  JSssaj/s  on  Agriculture.     1843. 

3.  Coleman  s  Visit  to  England.     1850. 

4.  Un  Voyage  a  Londres.     1851. 

Foreign  travellers,  in  shoals,  have  printed  and  pub- 
lished their  impressions  of  the  British  Isles ;  we  have 
had  our  portraits  painted  in  all  conceivable  styles, 
whilst  our  national  vanity  has  certainly  been 
ministered  to  by  admiring  strangers  in  a  way  to 
satisfy  the  most  exigent  John  Bull  amongst  us.  At 
the  same  time,  it  is  as  well  to  admit  that  some  of  the 
Continental  ramblers  who  have  visited  our  shores, 
pretend  to  have  discovered  many  imperfections  in  the 
social  arrangements  of  England  which  justly  dis- 
pleased them  and  offended  their  taste :  with  one  or 
two  of  these  dissentients  we  intend  one  day  to  have  a 
passing  word,  but  our  chief  purpose  in  approaching 
the  subject  of  foreign  criticism  upon  the  British  people 
and  their  domestic  economy,  is  to  present,  in  some- 
what of  a  prominent  manner,  the  remarkable  work 
which  stands  at  the  head  of  this  article,  by  M.  Leonce 
de  Lavergne,  Ex-Prof,  at  Coll.  Agron.  of  Versailles. 
The  book  would  seem  to  have  been  written,  in  great 
part,  with  a  design  to  convey  information  and  instruc- 
tion to  his  own  countrymen,  especially  those  engaged 

B 


2  EUIJAL    aCCONOMY 

in  agriculture.  Long  inclined  to  a  belief  in  the 
superior  science  and  advancing  progress  of  English 
husbandry,  the  author  resolved  to  examine  into  it 
personally,  and  having  devoted  some  time  to  the 
work  of  inquiry  and  observation — constantly  taking 
notes  of  what  he  saw  and  learned — he  has  digested 
his  views  at  leisure  into  a  comprehensive  form  ; 
drawing  parallels  or  contrasts,  according  as  the  case 
suggested,  between  the  rural  economy  of  France  and 
that  of  England.  It  is  hardly  necessary  to  add  that 
the  comparisons  run  a  good  deal  in  our  favour  ;  their 
backward  science,  and  the  incomplete  methods  pursued 
by  a  large  proportion  of  French  cultivators,  being 
repeatedly  adverted  to,  with  obvious  regret,  not  to 
say  humiliation.  To  incite  our  neighbours  to 
improved  efforts  being,  as  has  been  stated,  one  of 
the  leading  aims  of  the  author,  he  never  hesitates  to 
place  in  the  broad  light  of  contrast,  sometimes  of 
ridicule,  the  shortcomings  of  those  amidst  whom  it 
is  his  fortune  to  dwell.  And  if  lucid  exposition, 
practical  appeals  to  their  interest,  and  counsels 
inspired  by  a  thorough  comprehension  of  the  subject, 
could  awaken  the  emulation  or  quicken  the  appre- 
hension of  the  French  "  paysan,"  this  book  ought  to 
make  a  sensible  impression  upon  that  numerous  body. 
Indeed,  we  have  reason  to  believe  that  it  has  already 
done  so,  and  that  it  is  obtaining  considerable  circula- 
tion. Meanwhile,  our  own  people  will  do  well  to 
study  in  the  pages  before  us,  the  history  as  well  as 
the  theory  and  practice  of  modern  improvements  in 
husbandry.  In  a  picture  traced  by  the  hand  of  a 
stranger,  curiosity  blends  itself  with  the  simple 
appetite  for  knoAvledge,  and  we  become  as  interested 


OF    ENGLAND.  3 

in  his  account  of  "  short-horns,"  "  new  Leicesters," 
and  "  improved  South  Downs,"  as  though  it  were 
untrodden  ground. 

In  setting  forth  the  principal  features  which 
distinguish  the  agriculture  of  England  from  that  of 
his  own  nation,  M.  Lavergne  naturally  attaches  the 
highest  importance  to  the  introduction  of  the  Norfolk 
husbandry,  with  its  wide-spread  system  of  root  cul- 
ture, and  its  green  crops  :  enabling  the  cultivator  to 
dispense  in  a  great  measure  with  fallows,  to  rear  a 
much  larger  number  of  animals,  and  to  hasten  their 
arrival  at  maturity. 

The  author  estimates  the  number  of  sheep 
maintained  in  the  British  islands  and  in  France  as 
double  in  amount  to  what  it  was  a  century  since. 
In  1750,  the  number  in  each  kingdom  respectively 
was  about  seventeen  to  eighteen  million  head ;  whilst 
the  total  now  existing  he  sets  at  thirty-five  millions. 
But  here  the  equality  stops  ;  the  extent  of  ground 
devoted  to  the  maintenance  of  our  flocks  being,  he 
says,  equivalent  to  thirty-one  millions  of  hectares, 
whilst  in  France  it  must  be  set  at  not  less  than  fifty- 
three  millions !  And  this  striking  fact  becomes  yet 
more  instructive  when  we  learn  that  "  Ensfland 
proper"  feeds  about  thirty  out  of  the  thirty-five 
millions  of  sheep  on  fifteen  millions  of  hectares;* 
Ireland  and  Scotland  furnishing  between  them  the 
remainder,  in  the  proportion  of  two  and  four,  speak- 
ing in  round  numbers. 

From  this  one  element  of  agricultural  progress  is 
deducible  a  whole    series    of  results,   of  which   M. 


A  hectare  is  nearly  equal  to  two  and  a-half  Englisli  acres. 

b2 


4  KURAL   CECONOMY 

Laverirne  exhibits  tlie  advanta":es  accruinf''  to  the 
general  eommuiiity ;  impressing  upon  his  country- 
men the  necessity  of  adopting,  as  far  as  circumstances 
enable  them  to  do  so,  the  cycle  of  operations  pursued 
by  their  energetic  neighbours.  "It  is  said  of  us," 
remarks  M.  Lavergne,  "  that  we  do  not  care  to  feed 
on  animal  food,  preferring  vegetables  and  farinaceous 
substances;  that  we  eat  rye  rather  than  wheat,  for 
the  same  reason.  The  fact  is,  that  we  eat  what  our 
farmers  can  manage  to  grow  for  our  subsistence. 
They  cannot  rear  oxen,  sheep,  or  swine  in  such 
numbers  as  to  bring  meat  within  the  reach  of  the 
lower  class,  because  they  have  nothing  to  give  them 
during  winter;  and  we  eat  rye  simply  because  we 
cannot  grow  enough  wheat,  or  even  oats,  of  which  to 
make  bread  of  a  more  nourishing  quality." 

In  truth,  rye  is  treated  by  M.  Lavergne  as  the 
most  profitless  and  contemptible  of  all  products. 
"  It  would  be  most  desirable,"  he  says,  "  to  abandon 
it,  but  this  is  not  always  possible.*  It  is  one  thing 
to  renounce  rye,  and  another  to  raise  better  corn 
successfully,  for  it  is  not  every  one  who  is  capable  of 
forcing  nature.  The  English,  in  order  to  achieve 
what  they  have  done  in  the  way  of  wheat  culture, 
have  been  obliged  to  fight  against  the  qualities  of 
their  soil  as  well  as  of  their  climate"  (p.  70);  and  he 
goes  on  to  insist  further  upon  the  policy  of  raising 
wheat  only  in  situations  and  on  land  favourable  to 
its  growth  and  its  ripening, — one  of  the  principles  now 
steadily  adhered  to  by  our  best  agriculturalists,  in  pur- 


*  See  also  a  passage  (page  187)  in  the  chapter  on  "  Les  Debouches" 
(markets),  full  of  sensible  and  acute  observations  on  this  head. 


OF    ENGLAND. 


siiance  of  which,  in  combination  with  improved  methods 
of  cultivation,  a  smaller  surface  seems  to  suffice  for 
its  growth  with  us,  than  would  formerly  have  been 
supposed  possible.  M.  Lavergne  states  that  whereas, 
in  France,  one-fourth  of  the  ground  under  cultiva- 
tion is  required  for  the  growth  of  cereals  destined 
for  human  food,  in  these  islands  one-sixteenth  of  the 
soil  under  plough  suffices  to  yield  such  an  amount  of 
wheat  as  it  consists  with  good  husbandry  to  raise. 
The  annual  produce  of  cereals  in  France  is  thus  stated 
by  our  author :  wheat,  seventy  millions  of  hectolitres ; 
rye,  thirty  millions ;  maize,  seven  millions ;  buck- wheat, 
eight  millions.  The  yield  of  wheat,  upon  the  1,800,000 
hectares  devoted  to  that  grain  in  the  British  Isles,  is 
given  as  forty-five  millions  of  hectolitres,  of  which 
thirty-eight  millions  are  grown  in  England  at  a  rate 
of  produce  per  acre  fully  double  that  of  France. 

Passing  from  the  all-important  feature  of  root 
crops,  on  which  the  whole  circle  of  scientific  farming 
now  revolves,  M.  Lavergne  explains  in  his  chapters 
on  sheep  and  cattle  the  circumstances  which  have  led 
to  the  wondrous  amelioration  of  our  domestic  animals. 
In  that  section  which  treats  of  cattle,  many  instruc- 
tive observations  abound,  mingled  with  a  minute 
exposition  of  the  merits  of  our  various  breeds. 
Indeed,  the  manner  in  which  the  author,  up  to  a 
recent  period  wholly  occupied  with  the  highest 
functions  of  a  political  career,  deals  with  the  subject 
of  cattle  management,  attests  a  singular  aj^titude  for 
masterhig  new  and  dissimilar  subjects.  He  seizes, 
and  expatiates  upon  what  may  be  termed  the 
philosophy  of  "  Grazing,"  with  a  perspicacity  worthy 
of  one  whose  life   has  been  absorbed  in  the  calling. 


6  RURAL    CECONOMY 

He,  like  most  modern  agriculturists,  is  an  advocate  of 
"stall  feeding"  for  cattle;  or,  as  we  have  heard  a 
friend  humorously  style  it,  "  the  subjecting  cattle  to 
a  fixed  position,  upon  bare  boards,  in  a  current  of 
cold  air."  The  fact  is  that  ideas  of  profit,  when  once 
they  have  obtained  possession  of  a  farming  mind, 
carry  all  before  them;  thus  a  French  traveller, 
naturally  smitten  with  the  desire  of  emulating  our 
practice,  and  appreciating  the  merit  of  skilful  adap- 
tation of  "means  to  ends,"  readily  falls  in  with  this 
universally  recognised  aim — viz.,  the  making  of  money 
by  the  shortest  process.  On  other  grounds,  we 
confess  ourselves  inclined  to  look  with  complacency 
upon  the  old  system  of  warm  and  clean  litter,  coupled 
with  the  liberty  of  turning  about.  But  we  must  not 
give  way  to  kindly,  antiquated  prejudices,  in  the 
face  of  tabular  demonstrations  of  profitable  results, 
such  as  are  supplied  b}^  the  apostles  of  a  later  school. 

The  names  of  Bakewell,  Ellman,  and  Collins,  have 
here  derived  an  additional  chance  of  enduring  fame 
and  honour,  by  the  mention  of  wdiat  they  have 
effected  for  the  improvement  of  English  domestic 
animals.  Of  the  former  of  these,  M.  Lavergne  speaks 
as  "  a  man  of  genius  in  his  way,  who  has  done  as 
much  to  augment  the  wealth  of  his  country  as  either 
Arkwright  or  Watt."  (p.  22.) 

The  value  of  Bakewell  and  his  disciples'  system, 
consisted,  he  tells  us,  in  persevering  "  selection." 
Individuals  combining  the  properties  of  rapid  growth, 
disposition  to  acquire  flesh  and  to  assume  rounded, 
handsome  forms,  were  alone  permitted  to  reproduce 
their  kind;  and  by  attentive,  unwearied  noting  of 
their  experiments  for  a  series  of  years,  these  eminent 


OF    ENGLAND.  7 

breeders  of  stock  succeeded  in  arrivino;  at  the  desired 
combination  of  qualities — the  "  Dishley,"  or  New 
Leicester  sheep,  the  "  Short-horned,"  or  Teeswater  bull 
and  cow,  and  the  improved  South  Down  sheep,  being 
at  the  present  time  regarded  as  realizing  the  utmost 
perfection  of  which  each  class  of  animal  is  susceptible. 
]\I.  Lavergne  seems  not  to  have  been  aware  of  an 
opinion  entertained  by  the  late  Mr.  Thos.  Gisborne, 
which  is  stated  in  that  gentleman's  "  Essays,"  recently 
collected  and  published  under  the  supervision  of  his 
friend,  Mr.  Joseph  Parkes.  He  believes  that  "  breeds" 
are  destined  to  pass  away,  but  that  "  races"  are 
eternal.  In  other  words,  that  a  given  type  of  animal 
will  reproduce  itself,  in  strict  conformity  with  its 
original  character,  through  ages ;  whilst  that  "  breeds," 
formed  by  artificially  crossing,  and  selecting  the  re- 
producers, will  revert  to  the  pristine  type  so  soon  as 
they  are  left  to  themselves.  This  is  a  physiological 
question  which,  though  chiefly  interesting  to  the 
curious  inquirer,  is  not  without  value  to  the  stock- 
farmer,  and  we  should  like  to  see  it  taken  up  by  our 
scientific  class.  Another  theory,  very  lately  started 
respecting  the  disease  called  "  fingers  and  toes,"  pre- 
valent among  turnips  chiefly,  happens  to  proceed  upon 
a  somewhat  analogous  hypothesis.  Assuming  our 
actual  edible  bulbous  roots  to  be  nothing  but  improved 
forms  of  an  originally  wild  and  far  inferior  plant, 
this  theory  supposes  "  fingers  and  toes"  to  be  neither 
more  nor  less  than  a  struggle  on  the  part  of  the 
genteel  modern  turnip  to  get  back  to  his  homely 
origin;  diving  down  in  a  tapering,  and  often  bifur- 
cate root,  as  its  remote  and  indigenous  progenitors 
had  always  done  before  him.     Tliere  is  a  certain  cor- 


8  RURAL   (ECONOMY 

respondence  between  this  plausible  suggestion  and 
the  convictions  of  Mr.  Gisborne,  and  both  the  one 
and  the  other  possess  that  species  of  attraction  for 
speculative  thinkers  which  alwaj^s  attends  a  reference 
to  universal  tendencies  in  nature. 

The  hioh  condition  of  our  corn  cultivation,  our 
live  stock  and  teams,  our  buildings,  implements,  and 
effective  methods  of  enriching  and  renewing  the  latent 
powers  of  the  soil,  call  forth  in  turn  the  cordial 
admiration  of  the  French  visitor.  Supporting  his 
general  statements  by  careful  computations,  his  pic- 
ture presents  a  body  of  information  on  which  the 
imitators  of  English  systems  might  safely  rely.  But 
whilst  M.  LaveVgne  contemplates,  with  something 
akin  to  wonder,  the  astonishing  march  of  our 
modern  agricultural  movement,  he  is  too  wise  and 
reflecting  a  teacher  not  to  take  account  of  the  inhe- 
rent difficulties  Avhich  stand  in  the  way  of  its  adop- 
tion by  his  own  people.  It  is  in  this  mood  that  he 
writes  as  follows : — 

"  The  causes  which  have  led  to  the  agricultural 
superiority  of  the  English,  originate  in  the  history 
and  organization  of  our  two  nations.  The  rural 
economy  of  a  people  is  not  an  isolated  fact ;  it  forms 
one  element  of  a  great  whole.  It  is  not  upon  our 
cultivators  that  the  accountability  for  our  backward 
condition  should  be  chiefly  cast,  neither  ought  we  to 
rely  on  them  altogether  for  future  progress.  And  it 
is  not  so  much  the  concentration  of  their  attention 
upon  the  soil  itself  which  will  secure  progress,  as  a 
careful  study  of  the  general  laws  which  govern  the 
economic  development  of  a  community. 

"  Up  to   this   time,"   he   goes   on  to  say,   "  these 


OF    ENGLAND.  9 

studies  have  not  been  attractive  to  tliem ;  it  has  been 
held  that  such  inquiries  are  fraught  with  danger  to 
the  cultivator.  I  believe  this  to  be  an  error,  and  I 
trust  to  show  that  it  is  such."   (p.  105.) 

Beginning  with  a  quotation  from  Arthur  Young 
(p.  13),  the  author  of  the  "  Essai"  lays  down  the  fact 
of  the  infinite  superiority  of  the  soil  of  France  over 
that  of  England;  not  content  with  a  general  asser- 
tion, we  have  a  comparison  of  the  most  elaborate  kind 
set  before  us,  proving  that,  tract  for  tract,  zone  for 
zone,  the  French  possess  the  advantage  of  a  better 
fundamental  element  of  production.  Then  their 
climate  is  confessedly  preferable;  and  in  descanting 
upon  this  happy  difference  in  their  favour,  M. 
Lavergne  obviously  finds  a  secret  "  dedommagement" 
for  our  superiority  on  some  other  points.  But  although 
the  French  sun  can  ripen  the  ear  of  corn,  can  mature 
all  kinds  of  fruit,  and  bring  to  perfection  many  other 
precious  products — wine,  olives,  silk,  oil,  hemp,  flax, 
and  the  like — nevertheless,  as  has  been  remarked 
already,  the  one  thing  needful  to  "  high  farming  "  is 
wanting.  The  French  eat  but  little  meat,  for  want 
of  more  cattle  and  flocks  and  swine ;  and  they  lack 
manure  wherewith  to  grow  thirty  and  even  forty  tons 
of  food  to  the  acre,  as  we  manage  to  do,  in  favourable 
years,  with  our  swedes  and  mangolds.  This  matter 
of  meat  and  manure  is,  in  truth,  a  revolving  circle, 
wherein  the  great  difficult}^-  consists  in  seizing  the 
departing  point.  ^I.  Lavergne  maintains  that  if  the 
farmers  occupying  cold,  moist  mountainous  tracts  in 
France  (of  which  he  indicates  no  small  number) 
would  grow  artificial  grasses,  turnips,  carrots,  man- 
golds, and  such  sort  of  crops,  instead  of  slaving,  as 


10  RURAL   (ECONOMY 

they  do,  to  extract  miserably  scanty  crops  of  rye  and 
oats,  they  could  very  soon  rear  animals  for  food. 
Animals  would  yield  "  engrais,"  or  "  dressing,"  bring 
capital  to  the  farm,  invigorate  the  labourer,  and 
cause  the  land  to  revive  under  generous  treatment. 
How  to  begin  is  the  problem,  and  of  course  M. 
Lavergne  is  at  no  loss  to  prescribe  the  means. 
Capital  must  be  invited  to  co-operate  more  liberally 
with  labour.  He  would  persuade  the  owners  of 
capital  to  embark  in  scientific  farming,  commencing 
by  degrees,  and  would  engage  to  justify  the  enter- 
prise by  its  results  if  properly  conducted.  But  here 
we  come  upon  the  discussion  concerning  "  large  and 
small  cultivation,"  for  no  change  can  be  thought  of 
in  the  rural  economy  of  France  without  fully  exploring 
that  thorny  question.  M.  Lavergne  has,  we  think, 
set  it  very  fairly  before  his  readers,  and  in  a  vein  of 
investigation  which  strikes  us  as  somewhat  original. 
And  in  the  first  place  our  author  disputes  the  fact,  or  at 
least  denies  the  extent,  of  the  extravagant  subdivision 
of  land  in  France.     We  will  give  his  own  words : — 

"  All  the  world  is  familiar  with  the  celebrated 
calculation,  giving  eleven  millions  and  a  half  as  the 
number  of  '  cotes'  (taxable  properties  in  houses  and 
lands) ;  but  so  they  are,  likewise,  with  the  delusive 
nature  of  this  calculation,  as  demonstrated  by  the 
researches  of  M.  Passy.  Not  only  does  it  happen 
that  an  individual  contributor  often  pays  several 
'  cotes,'  which  in  itself  sufiices  to  invalidate  the 
general  proposition  itself;  but,  furthermore,  town 
habitations  equally  count  as  'cotes,'  thus  diminishing 
the  actual  total  of  rural  proprietors  to  five,  or  at  most 
to  six  millions."  (p.  109.) 


OF    ENGLAND.  11 

"  Now,"  says  M.  Lavergne,  "  of  the  Avliole  eleven 
millions  and  a- half  alluded  to  as  representing  the 
numerical  amount  of  properties,  town  and  country 
inclusive,  half  a  million,  only,  possess  parcels  of  the 
value  of  one  hundred  francs,  or  four  pounds;  five 
millions  and  a-half  own  parcels  of  the  value  of  five 
francs  each,  two  millions  at  from  five  to  ten  francs, 
three  millions  at  from  ten  to  fifty  francs,  six  hundred 
thousand  from  fifty  to  a  hundred  francs.  But  the 
sum  of  the  land  possessed  by  these  eleven  millions, 
consistino;  of  lots  all  rancrino;  under  the  value  of  one 
hundred  francs,  reaches  only  one-third  of  the  entire 
surface  under  cultivation."  [Pasture  and  woods 
being  included,  we  presume.]  "Remains,  then,  two- 
thirds  of  it  in  the  hands  of  four  hundred  thousand 
proprietors;  deducting  one  hundred  thousand  for 
such  owners  as  possess  town  lots,  this  gives  an 
average  extent  of  eighty  hectares  to  each,  or  two 
hundred  English  acres." 

M.  Lavergne  next  endeavours  to  establish  a  cor- 
respondence between  this  section  of  the  French 
people  and  our  middle-class  and  second-class  gentry 
taken  together.  Granting  that  the  aimual  value  of 
land  is  greater  in  England,  acre  for  acre,  still,  he  con- 
tends, the  disproportion  is  less  than  is  usually  sup- 
posed. He  sets  the  share  of  the  soil  possessed  by 
our  largest  proprietors  against  that  of  the  eleven 
millions  who  own  a  third  of  all  France ;  and  main- 
tains that  two-thirds  in  each  country  are  possessed 
by  a  class  of  owners  differing  from  each  other  far 
less  widely  than  it  has  been  the  habit  to  represent 
them.     In  France,  he  says — 

"  Estates  comprising  an  extent  of  500,  1000,  and 


12  KURAL   (ECONOMY 

2000  hectares  are  far  from  rare,  whilst  properties 
even  of  25,000  francs  to  100,000  francs  a  year  value, 
and  beyond  it,  are  not  unknown.  A  thousand  land- 
lords in  each  of  our  departments  might  be  found,  on 
a  level,  as  to  landed  property,  with  the  secondary  class 
of  English  country  landlords,  which  is  the  one  most 
diffused  among  them.  It  is  true,  we  have,  propor- 
tionably  speaking,  fewer,  and  they  are  planted  amidst 
small  neighbours;  whilst  the  English  gentry  live 
under  the  shadow  of  huge  aristocratic  fiefs.  It  is 
only  under  this  aspect — i.  e.^  the  proportional  amount 
—  that  it  can  fairly  be  affirmed  that  proj^erty  is  more 
concentrated  in  England  than  in  France."  (p.  111.) 
After  exhibiting  this  view  of  the  actual  distribution 
of  the  surface,  M.  Lavergne  examines  the  evidence  in 
favour  of  large  farms,  the  advantages  of  which  it  has 
recently  become  so  much  the  fashion  to  extol  ;  we 
regret  that  we  must  restrict  our  extracts  in  reference 
to  this  most  vital  question,  as  between  "  large  and 
little  culture"  (to  translate  it  literally).  The  author 
has  treated  it  with  a  rare  imjDartiality,  and  our  readers 
will  find  many  valuable  facts  arranged  in  a  manner 
to  leave  the  solution  easier  than  has  yet  seemed  to  be 
attainable.  Solution,  in  the  sense  of  decided  pre- 
ference, however,  it  is  not  easy  to  arrive  at.  But  we 
can,  more  distinctly  than  before  we  perused  this 
chapter,  appreciate  the  bearings  of  particular  circum- 
stances in  determining  when  large  cultivation  should 
prevail,  and  the  converse.  M.  Lavergne  is  clearly  a 
partizan  of  neither.  His  accurate  acquaintance  with 
the  whole  condition  of  French  husbandry,  together 
with  his  practical  familiarity  with  various  other  forms 
of  industrial  life,  enable  him  to  steer  clear  of  dogmatic 


OF    ENGLAND.  13 

generalization,  and  even  inspire  him  with  a  certain 
dislike  of  such  as  indulge  in  it.  We  subjoin  a  few 
of  his  comments  on  this  head. 

"  In  the  same  degree  as  people  exaggerate  the 
amount  of  concentration  in  England,  do  they  overrate 
the  eiFect  of  large  estates  upon  the  progress  of 
agriculture.  Large  properties  do  not  necessarily 
imply  large  culture.  The  most  considerable  of  them 
are  not  unfrequently  split  up  into  small  holdings;* 
Avhat  matters  it,  indeed,  though  one  man  do  possess 
10,000  hectares,  if  they  be  broken  down  into  200 
farms  of  50  hectares  each?  ....  We  have  seen 
that,  in  the  United  Kingdom,  two  categories  prevail; 
large,  and  moderate  estates.  The  first  class  of  pro- 
perties occupying,  then,  a  third  of  the  soil,  and  part 
of  this  being  distributed  into  small  lots,  or  tenantcies, 
it  is  obvious  that  large  culture  obtains  upon  no  more 
than  one  quarter  of  the  whole  land.  Now  is  it  true 
that  this  one  quarter  is  farmed  in  the  highest  and 

most  skilful  style?     I  suspect  not The  richest 

districts  of  England  are  those  of  Lancashire,  Lincoln- 
shire, Leicester,  Worcester,  and  Warwickshire;  and 
here  a  mixed  proportion  as  to  culture  subsists.  In 
one  of  the  most  fertile  of  these,  viz.,  Lancashire,  it  is 
the  mean,  or  possibly  even  the  small,  culture  which 
preponderates.  Taken  as  a  general  fact,  it  may  fairly 
be  affirmed  that  the  best  farmed  land  in  the  kingdom, 
Ireland  included,  is  not  that  belonging  to  the  largest 
occupants."  (p.  114.) 

"  In  France,  again,"  continues  M.  Lavergne^  "  two 


*  See  tlie  account  of  the  Marquis  of  Lansdowne's  estates  in  Kerry, 
of  about  100,000  acres,  full  of  sheep  walks  and  bare  rock.  There 
were,  till  lately,  3000  farms  upon  this  !   (p.  449). 


14  RURAL   CECONOMY 

categories  likewise  appear — middling  sized,  and  great 
estates.  In  the  former,  small  cultivation  predomi- 
nates, and  these  generally  exhibit  the  greatest  advance 
in  agricultural  aptitude  and  knowledge.  Such  is  the 
case  in  the  '  Departement  du  Nord,'  and  of  the  '  Bas 
Khin,'  and  indeed  in  the  richest  cantons  of  other 
departments.  With  us,  division  of  the  land  is  a 
means  of  developing  improvement.  This  results  from 
the  national  habit  of  thought.  Similar  causes  produce 
the  like  results  in  other  countries;  in  Belgium, 
Rhenish  Prussia,  in  Upper  Italy,  and  even  in  Nor- 
Avay."  (p.  115.) 

"  In  all  countries,  with  the  single  exception  of 
Great  Britain,  overgrown  estates  have  done  more 
mischief  than  good  to  agriculture."  After  assigning 
the  reasons  of  this,  the  author  adds,  "  Still,  for  all 
that  has  been  advanced,  I  am  ready  to  admit  that 
the  state  of  landed  property  in  England  is  more 
favourable  to  agricultural  prosperity  than  that  of 
France.  It  is  simply  the  exaggeration  employed  on 
this  topic  that  I  have  striven  to  dispel."  (p.  116.) 

We  must  now  take  leave  of  this  important  chapter, 
with  the  remark  that,  after  all,  there  can  be  no 
practical  utility  in  proving  to  the  French  people  the 
disadvantages  of  "  la  petite  culture ;"  since  the  subdi- 
vision and  possession  of  land  is  among  the  most 
unassailable  of  their  national  predilections,  and  is, 
moreover,  linked  with  that  passion  for  "equality" 
which,  naturally  enough,  grew  out  of  the  intolerable 
abuse  of  its  opposite  down  to  1789.  We  are  indeed 
not  disinclined  to  believe,  with  M.  Lavergne,  that 
where  small  cultivation  is  accompanied  by  capital 
adequate  to  keep  the  land,  whatever  be  its  extent, 


OF    ENGLAND.  15 

"  ill  heart,"  there  will  be  found,  if  not  the  maximum 
of  profit,  the  highest  average  of  comfort,  content,  and 
independence  among  the  inhabitants.  (See  page  114, 
where  the  condition  of  things  in  the  island  of  Jersey 
is  described.)  In  districts  where  the  above-named 
condition  is  wanting,  of  course  the  cultivators  must 
be  poor,  degraded,  and  embarrassed.  Such  as  these 
must  either  learn  to  exchange  their  labour  for  money 
wages,  or  remain  at  the  bottom  of  the  scale.  M. 
Lavergiie  should  begin  by  preaching  to  them  the 
expediency  of  such  an  industrial  revolution,  and 
perhaps  capital  might  presently  be  induced  to  unite 
in  its  achievement.  Eno^lishmen  have  lived  so  Ions 
under  an  unchanged  constitution  of  things,  in  con- 
nexion "svith  land,  that  they  commonly  go  through 
life  with  very  little  inquiry  into  the  practical  operation 
of  their  laws  and  customs,  or  the  rights  of  privileged 
classes.  A  foreigner,  on  the  contrary,  takes  note  of 
every  cluster  of  causes  and  effects  which  comes  before 
him,  and  if  he  happen  to  have  a  philosophic  turn  of 
mind  (such  as  M.  Lavergne  possesses),  he  endeavours 
to  "  map  out,"  as  it  were,  the  ramifications  of  this  or 
that  principle  throughout  the  political  constitution  of 
the  nation  which  he  is  studying.  He  does  not  hesitate 
boldly  to  handle  and  dissect  laws  and  customs  which, 
to  English  minds,  are  consecrated  by  antiquity,  and 
regarded  as  inseparable  from  national  prosperity. 
Sometimes  they  obtain  from  the  author  of  the 
"  Essai"  unqualified  approval — often  disapproval; 
but  in  every  instance  the  opinions  are  sustained 
by  reasons,  delivered  with  the  unmistakeable  accents 
of  a  love  of  truth  and  a  genuine  attachment  to  the 
social  interests  of  mankind.    AVe  cannot  resist  making 


16  RURAL   ECONOMY 

one  extract  (from  the  chapter  on  the  Tenure  of  Pro- 
perty) terminating  a  brief  notice  respecting  the  law 
of  inheritance,  and  the  liberty  of  bequest,  so  different 
in  our  respective  countries. 

"  Should  the  period  ever  arrive  in  France  when  it 
might  be  granted  to  the  head  of  a  family  to  exercise 
more  freely  the  right  of  bequeathing  his  property — 
or  should  we  think  fit  to  restrict  by  laws  the  unli- 
mited distribution  of  personal  property  now  practised 
in  cases  of  intestacy — let  us  hope  that  considerations 
tending  to  favour  the  formation  of  large  properties 
will  not  be  suffered  to  enter  into  the  question.  Large 
estates  have  not  been  cut  up  or  absorbed  by  law  in 
France,  but  by  the  revolution ;  and  not  only  is  their 
reconstruction  by  artificial  methods  impracticable, 
but,  the  course  things  have  taken  considered,  it  is 
extremely  doubtful  whether  it  could  serve  any  useful 
end."  (p.  123.) 

The  chapter  "  On  the  Constitution  of  Cultivation" 
(a  clumsy  phrase  enough  in  English,  but  still  one  not 
easy  to  render  less  so)  is  short,  treating  in  great  part 
of  the  same  subject  as  the  one  on  "  La  Propriete." 
And  the  same  oscillation  is  here  observable  in  the 
author's  mind  as  is  apparent  during  his  comparison 
of  the  two  modes  of  culture  (great  and  small)  in  the 
previous  chapter.  The  prodigious  results  of  our 
skilled  farming  on  a  great  scale  naturally  excite  his 
professional  sympathies;  yet  anon  the  deep-seated 
feeling  which  belongs  to  a  Frenchman  inclines  him  to 
regard  small  occupations  with  partiality. 

"  Small  cultivation  (he  remarks),  as  well  as  small 
properties,  are  more  congenial  to  our  habits.  For- 
tunes being  more  divided  among  us  than  amongst  the 


OF    ENGLAND.  17 

English,  it  is  expedient  to  keep  the  quantity  of  land 
occupied,  on  a  suitable  level  with  the  amount  of 
capital  available  for  its  culture "  (p.  133.) 

"  There  are  districts  of  my  country  with  which  I 
am  familiar,  where  small  culture  is  a  curse;  others 
which  I  could  name  flourish  under  it,  and  would  not 
prosper  if  farmed  on  the  contrary  system."  (p.  134.) 

It  is,  to  say  the  truth,  a  hard  matter  to  discover 
how  much  of  change,  or  of  imitation  of  England,  M. 
Lavergne  would  wish  to  bring  about  in  the  agricul- 
tural system  of  his  own  countr}^,  seeing  that  he  so 
thoughtfully  and  impartially  scans  the  actual  merits 
of  the  latter,  taking  into  account  national  circum- 
stances, together  with  the  inveterate  attachment  of 
the  French  to  certain  social  principles.  His  work 
reminds  us  of  nothing  so  much,  in  fact,  as  of  a  person 
playing  three-handed  whist  with  a  "  dummy"  as 
partner.  The  author  plays,  of  course,  both 
"  hands,"  and,  as  a  professor  of  agronomic  science  is 
bound  to  do,  tries  to  "win  the  trick"  with  bold,  enter- 
prizing  play.  "  Dummy,"  on  the  other  hand,  holds  a 
"  strong  suit"  in  "  social  equality,"  as  well  as  some 
other  good  cards ;  for  example,  "  individual  indepen- 
dence," "  models  of  honest  industry,"  "  perfection  of 
small  cultivation"  (admitted  by  the  author,  as  we 
have  seen),  as  exhibited  in  Flanders,  amongst  French 
vine  dressers,  and  the  like.  Thus,  although  M. 
Lavergne  is  strongly  impelled  by  the  predominant 
passion  of  the  day  to  recommend  the  pursuit  of 
agricultural  wealth — destined,  in  its  turn,  to  engender 
the  multiplication  of  the  comforts  and  advantages 
of  civilization — he  nevertheless  makes  "dummy"  play 
his     game    with    so    much    effect    as    to    preserve 

c 


18  RURAL   CECONOMY 

himself  from  one-sided  advocacy;  and  accordingly, 
■\ve  find  him  disposed  to  prescribe  none  but  mode- 
rate and  practicable  improvements  in  the  rural 
economy  of  his  own  nation. 

These  prescriptions,  if  we  comprehend  the  author's 
leanings  justly,  would  consist  of  the  following  leading 
ingredients,  mixed  and  employed  with  discrimination. 

1.  The  cultivation  of  green  and  root  crops  wher- 
ever possible.  2.  He  would  have  more  care  bestowed 
upon  the  breeding  of  sheep  and  cattle,  and  would 
discontinue  the  employment  of  oxen  and  cows  in 
tillage,  as  a  mistaken  economy.  3.  He  would  adapt 
the  choice  of  the  products  to  the  nature  of  the  soil 
and  local  character  of  the  district  (see  pp.  134,  135). 
4.  He  would  persuade  the  owners  of  land  whose 
capital  is  insufficient,  to  hand  it  over  to  the  cultivation 
of  tliose  who  have  more,  taking  rent  for  the  use  of  it; 
changing  the  relations  between  capital  and  labour 
most  advantageously,  on  such  parcels  of  land  as  re- 
present the  mean  ratio  between  large  and  small 
occupations.  The  French  cultivator  being  forced, 
under  the  actual  condition  of  things,  to  provide  the 
whole  apparatus  of  farming,  he  is  under  the  necessity 
of  borrowing  capital.  If  an  English  tenant  farmer 
were  thus  situated,  it  would  be  equally  necessary  for 
him  also  to  borrow.  But  in  England  the  "  Squire" 
furnishes  so  large  a  portion  of  the  matter  of  farm 
capital,  in  the  form  of  buildings,  repairs,  fencing, 
draining,  and  the  like,  that  the  farmer  can  apply  all 
his  own  money  to  positive  cultivation.  As  a  precedent 
for  the  transfusion  of  cultivating  proprietors  into 
tenant  farmers,  M.  Lavergne  recounts,  in  a  brief  but 
most  pertinent  manner,  the  gradual  change  which  the 


OF   ENGLAND.  19 

present  century  has  witnessed  of  our  yeoman  and 
"  statesman"  into  renters  of  farms  (page  131,  and  again 
page  188).  He  regards  the  combination  of  capital 
with  labour  as  most  desirably  exhibited  in  the  union 
of  landlord  and  tenant,  as  in  England,  where  each 
party  has  an  interest  in  the  land  tilled.  In  other 
countries  the  cultivator,  who  either  has  not  the  means 
of  doing  justice  to  the  land,  or  who  is  saddled  with  an 
obligation  to  pay  interest  on  the  shares  possessed  in 
it  by  his  co-heirs  (a  frequent  cause  of  embarrassment 
in  France),  must  borrow  to  carry  him  through;  and 
thence  his  chance  of  bettering  his  condition  becomes 
next  to  hopeless. 

The  general  propensity  of  French  cultivators  to 
get  into  debt  is  admitted  by  our  author.  But  if 
possessors  of  capital  are  willing  to  lend  upon  the 
security  of  land,  there  is  every  reason  why  they 
should  be  encouraged  to  do  so.  Check  borrowing  by 
the  straitened  farmer,  and  you  check  production. 
And  if  you  ask  why  the  farmer  does  not  sell,  and 
why  the  capitalist  does  not  buy,  this  same  land,  the 
answer  is  obvious — such  is  the  mode,  clumsy,  if  you 
please  to  call  it  so,  in  which  capital  and  labour  are  in 
the  habit  of  co-operating  in  France.  The  capitalist 
prefers  to  lend  rather  than  cultivate,  and  the  owner 
clings  to  possession  on  any  terms.  But,  as  M. 
Lavergne  remarks,  land  in  England  is  alsg  enormously 
indebted,  only  that  it  is  the  landlord,  and  not  the  culti- 
vator, who  borrows.  Everyone  conversant  with  English 
provincial  affairs,  is  aware  of  the  vast  extent  to  which 
estates  are  mortgaged.  But,  he  adds,  "  this  is  less 
matter  of  regret  in  a  rich  country,  such  as  England, 
where  the  debtors  have  commonly  other  sources  of 

c  2 


20  RURAL    CECONOMY 

income  on  which  to  eke  out  their  living."  Still,  the 
fact  ou2rht  to  be  borne  in  mind  when  we  talk  so 
compassionately  of  the  landed  property  of  France 
being  "  crippled  with  debts."  We  earnestly  commend 
to  our  reader's  attention  the  whole  chapter  "  Sur  les 
Debouches,"  where  ample  and  instructive  explana- 
tions abound  of  the  various  differences  in  the  eco- 
nomic condition  of  the  two  countries. 

As  a  relief  to  the  foregoing  somewhat  dry  though 
instructive  speculations,  concerning  the  best  modes  of 
holding  property  in  land,  and  the  various  conditions 
under  which  it  may  be  cultivated,  we  enter  upon 
what  we  may  describe  as  the  picturesque  portion  of 
M.  Lavergne's  "  Essai,"  entitled  "  Country  Life." 
But  under  this  general  and  familiar  head  there  is 
unpacked  and  rolled  out  before  us,  to  our  no  small 
surprise,  a  whole  shipload  of  literary  merchandize. 
And  in  the  face  of  such  a  mass  of  facts  and  erudite 
researches,  so  extensive  a  knowledge  of  the  works  of 
our  poets,  such  intimate  acquaintance  with  the  springs 
of  national  life,  and  the  sources  of  English  social 
peculiarities, — how,  we  should  like  to  know,  is  a 
reviewer  to  approach  the  task  of  furnishing  even  an 
outline  of  this  truly  comprehensive  chapter?  We 
feel  that  it  is  beyond  our  capabilities,  yet  we  must 
attack  it. 

It  is,  first  of  all,  o\u^  duty  to  apprise  the  reader 
that  he  will  be  carried  as  far  back  as  the  "  Saxons 
and  Normans"  for  the  origin  of  that  peculiar  charac- 
teristic for  which  the  English  are  famed — viz.,  a 
passion  for  country  life ;  he  will  therefore  be  prepared 
for  a  pretty  extensive  journey  over  the  field  of  illus- 
trative historical  gleanings.  And  he  will  do  wisely  to  be 


OF   ENGLAND.  21 

prepared ;  for  we  ourselves,  not  having  been  so,  were 
nearly  run  out  of  breath  in  toiling  after  the  author 
through  this  maze  of  black-letter  lore.  Only  think, 
too,  of  coming  unexpectedly  upon  a  passage  so  gran- 
diose as  this,  when  we  imagined  ourselves  to  be 
dealing  wdth  a  quiet  treatise  upon  the  "  hum-drum 
toj)ic  of  farming !" — 

"  When  the  barbarian  multitudes  came  swarming 
down  upon  the  Roman  Empire,  from  every  quarter, 
they  spread  themselves  over  the  face  of  the  country," 
&c.  &c. 

Then  we  have  AYilliam  the  Conqueror  and  Dooms- 
day Book,  Henry  YIIL,  Charlemagne,  Queen  Eliza- 
beth, Cambrian  Bards,  Magna  Charta,  and  the  like 
imposing  persons  and  things.  They  file  oif,  however, 
after  having  opened  the  piece  with  a  certain  amount 
of  solemn  parade,  and  leave  us  to  the  comj)any  of 
English  gentlemen,  and  we  may  add  English  ladies, 
for  they  naturally  form  one  of  the  features  of 
"  country  life,"  as  agreeably  depicted  in  this  chapter. 

The  bearing  of  the  rural  habits  of  our  gentry  upon 
the  political  machine  is  skilfull}^  sketched,  and  com- 
pared with  the  opposite  tastes  of  the  modern  French 
noblesse,  w^ho  usually  prefer  spending  the  winter  in 
towns.  We  say  prefer,  although  we  do  not  think 
that  they  would  like  towns  better,  having  the  same 
inducements  set  before  them  as  are  present  with 
English  country  gentlemen ;  but  their  political  world 
is  and  has  been  so  organized  for  the  last  hundred  and 
fifty  years,  that  rural  existence  has  long  been,  in 
great  part,  stripped  of  its  charm  and  interest  for 
French  gentlemen  of  independent  fortune. 

M.  Lavergne  has  penetrated  the  crust  of  English 


22  RURAL   (ECONOMY 

society,  thereby  acquiring  an  insight  into  our  pro- 
vincial mind,  such  as  is  exceedingly  rare  with 
foreigners.  He  of  course  notes,  and  indeed  goes  so 
far  as  to  admire,  the  complicated  but  unseen  network 
of  j)owers  which  forms  the  internal  administration 
of  this  unique  country.  He  quotes  the  anecdote 
of  Queen  Elizabeth  sending  back  to  their  "demesnes" 
her  nobles  who  came  throno^ino^  to  court,  with  a 
metaphor  signifying  that  they  would  be  of  more  use 
and  importance  there  than  in  the  capital;  and  he 
remarks  that  neither  Henri  Quatre  nor  his  grandson 
would  have  done  as  much.  The  rulers  of  France, 
with  their  narrow,  selfish  aims,  took  the  most  effec- 
tive course  to  disgust  the  territorial  aristocracy  with 
provincial  life,  when  they  deprived  them,  step  by 
step,  of  all  local  authority  and  influence,  and  laid  the 
foundation  of  the  system  of  carrying  on  internal 
government  by  an  army  of  officials :  a  system  of  which 
we  have  lived  to  see  the  many  disastrous  consequences. 
But  we  must  return  to  M.  Lavergne's  description 
of  English  life,  and  the  contrast  it  presents  to  that  of 
the  Continental  "  classes  aisees."  "Such  as  the  Palace 
of  Chatsworth  is,  on  the  grand  scale  of  residences, 
such  is  the  abode  of  each  private  gentleman,  only  on 
a  lesser  footing.  The  smallest  squire  must  have  his 
'  park,'  or  park -like  enclosure.  The  number  of  these 
sort  of  residences  is  enormous,  beginning  with  such 
as  contain  some  few  acres  only,  and  mounting  up  to 
others  of  more  than  a  thousand  in  extent.  ...  It 
is  easy  to  perceive  how  much  tliis  habit — so  universal 
with  the  English — of  passing  their  lives  in  the  country, 
afi'ects  the  prosperity  of  the  land  itself.  Whereas  in 
France  it  is  the  produce  of  the  fields  which  serves  to 


OF    ENGLAND.  23 

maintain  the  opulence  of  our  cities,  in  England  it  is 
the  industrial  towns  which  sustain  the  progress  of 
husbandry.  They  enrich  the  farmer  by  the  demand 
they  furnish,  and  farming  flourishes  accordingly. 
Again,  the  self-love  of  the  occupier  of  a  country  seat 
will  not  permit  him  to  neglect  the  appearance  of  his 
farming  establishment.  Ostentation,  in  rural  England, 
finds  a  vent  in  fine  teams,  substantial  farm  buildings, 
handsome  cattle,  and  the  like.  A  '  crack  home  farm' 
ma}',  in  fact,  stand  as  the  equivalent  of  a  splendid 
'hotel,'  luxuriously  furnished,  in  Paris."   (page  155.) 

We  pass  over  the  comparison  between  the  burthens 
borne  by  the  land  in  both  countries,  although  it  is  set 
forth  with  candour,  and  will  be  found  instructive ;  our 
limits  force  us  to  select  among  the  topics  treated  in 
the  "  Essai,"  and  we  prefer  touching  upon  the  chapter 
headed  "  Political  Institutions." 

Though  short,  it  is  perhaps  the  one  which,  by  the 
extent  of  its  range  of  information,  its  historical  illus- 
trations, and  intelligent  commentary,  ofibrs  the  liveliest 
interest  to  the  student  of  social  economy,  of  any  in  the 
book.  How  one  is  led  to  reflect  upon  the  waves  which 
advance  and  recede  in  the  course  of  human  afi'airs ; 
and  what  striking  difi'erences  may  we  not  discern  in 
the  groups  of  facts  which  command  the  approval  of 
the  actual  generation  of  the  day,  to  be  contemned  and 
avoided  by  that  of  another ! 

Like  all  foreign  interpreters  of  the  causes  of  our 
advance  in  material  wealth,  M.  Lavergne  naturally 
ascribes  the  largest  share  in  its  development  to  our 
exemption  from  internal  discord  and  ruinous  revolu- 
tionary wars.  "  The  eighteenth  century,  so  disastrous 
throughout  for  us,  exhibits  England  in  a  state  of  con- 


24  RURAL    CECONOMY 

tiiiuous  progression ;  so  that  when  we  at  length  did 
make  an  effort  onwards,  she  had  got  the  start  of  us  by 
three-quarters  of  a  century."  (p.  158.) 

The  author  affirms  that,  two  hundred  years  since, 
France  Avas,  in  every  respect,  in  a  better  state  than 
England,  not  even  excepting  what  regarded  agricul- 
ture. Sully,  to  be  sure,  formed,  in  his  time,  the  very 
antithesis  of  our  modern  statesman.  He  would,  we 
verily  think,  have  hung  up  the  "  Bagman,"  if  he  had 
caught  him  jogging  along  the  highway,  instead  of 
crowning  him  with  civic  garlands  as  we  now  do.  On 
the  other  hand.  Sully  was  a  warm  patron  of  the  plough, 
promoting  agricultural  industry  with  all  his  power, 
and  that  with  the  happiest  success. 

"  A  writer  of  that  period,  Olivier  de  Serres,  has 
bequeathed  to  us  an  admirable  work,  attesting  the 
universal  elan  (or  movement  forward);  the  author,  a 
Protestant  nobleman.  Seigneur  of  Pradel  in  the  Viva- 
rais,  had  lived  retired  on  his  country  estates  during 
the  religious  and  political  troubles  of  those  times." 
His  book  was  dedicated  to  Henri  Quatre,  and  M. 
Lavergne  pronounces  it  not  only  the  most  ancient, 
but  the  best  treatise  extant  in  modern  language! 
(p.  159.) 

"  All  recognised  maxims  of  good  farming  were 
already  known  to  the  contemporaries  of  Olivier,  and 
his  precepts  might  well  serve  to  guide  our  own 
cultivators  of  to-day."  (p.  160.) 

Why  France  did  not  persevere  in  the  path  of 
scientific  cultivation,  and  what  calamitous  hindrances 
arose  on  that  path,  M.  Lavergne  briefly  but  impres- 
sively explains.  We  would  advise  our  readers  to  study 
this  portion  of  his  w^ork  carefully.       A  whole  book 


OF    ENGLAND.  25 

could  not  more  clearly  trace  the  course  of  national 
decline,  and  its  incontestable  causes,  than  this  truly 
mournful  chapter  of  only  a  few  pages. 

About  the  period  at  which  Olivier  produced  his 
valuable  book  on  Agriculture,  French  gentlemen  of 
rank  and  condition  habitually  spent  their  lives  on 
their  "Terres;"  forming,  with  the  labouring  classes, 
a  social  whole,  now  remembered  only  by  faint 
traditions,  but  the  disappearance  of  which  M. 
Lavero-ne  res-ards  as  a  national  misfortune.*  We 
happen  to  have  also  heard  an  eminent  French  writer 
(M.  Alexis  de  Tocqueville)  state  this  fact  as  incon- 
testable, adding  that  the  "  debris"  of  hundreds  of 
country  "chateaux,"  as  well  as  of  lesser  residences 
(termed  in  the  provinces  "  Gen tilhommeries"),  still 
exist  in  all  parts  of  France.  So  that  the  taste  for 
country  life  was,  at  a  period  not  farther  removed  from 
us  than  a  hundred  and  fifty  years,  probably  as  widely 
diffused  among  our  neighbours  as  amongst  our  own 
people.  We  have  already  said  that  agriculture,  accord- 
ing to  M.  Lavergne's  opinion,  was  decidedly  better 
understood  by  the  French  than  by  the  English  during 
the  seventeenth  century,  the  former  even  supplying  us 
with  corn  out  of  their  abundance  (p.  162).  Subse- 
quently, however,  the  picture  becomes  reversed. 
Having  achieved  our  great  change,  from  enslavement 
to  constitutional  government,  in  1688,  English  pro- 
ductive industry  "  draws  ahead,"  whilst  the  exhausting 
effect  of  Louis  XIV.'s  prodigality,  with  his  reckless 
extortion  of  the  means  of  expenditure  from  his  too 
patient  people,  becomes  painfully  manifest.     During 


*  Note  on  Madame  de  Sevign^. 


26  RURAL    (ECONOMY 

the  latter  lialf  of  the  eighteenth  century  it  is  Enghmd 
which  supplies  France,  and  that  to  a  considerable 
extent. 

A  contrast  is  thus  drawn  between  the  then  con- 
dition of  the  two  nations : — "  The  English  people, 
happy,  and  proud  of  their  government,  confiding 
in  its  protection,  and  labouring  with  activit}';  our 
peoj)le,  ruined,  humiliated,  oppressed;  turning  aside 
from  industrial  occupations  of  which  they  are  not 
permitted  to  enjoy  the  fruits,  and  feeling  towards  their 
rulers  nothing  but  hatred  and  contempt."  (p.  162.) 

It  is  pleasing  to  observe  with  what  admiration  this 
intelligent  writer  regards  the  course  of  our  past 
domestic  history ;  but  we  are  sadly  afraid  that  a  closer 
acquaintance  with  the  internal  economy  of  England — 
still  more  that  of  Scotland  and  Ireland — during  the 
eighteenth  century,  would  dispel  much  of  the  envy 
with  which  our  institutions  are  viewed.  For  the 
conduct  of  the  Government  during  that  centur}^, 
especially  during  the  whole  reign  of  George  II.  and 
the  earlier  portion  of  the  reign  of  George  III.,  was  in 
every  way  disentitled  to  the  respect  and  afii"ection  of 
the  English  people.  Indeed,  the  interesting  contri- 
butions to  our  domestic  history  which  have  made 
their  appearance,  in  the  shape  of  personal  memoirs, 
during  the  last  twenty  years,  supply  ample  evidence 
of  how  little  we  owe  to  the  paternal  care  of  our 
monarchs,  or  the  purity  and  wise  administration  of  our 
ministers,  until  the  period  when  the  reins  of  power 
were  grasped  by  the  younger  Pitt. 

The  distinguishing,  and  in  fact  the  most  valuable 
attribute  of  the  English  Government,  is  its  non-inter- 
ference with  individual  action  :  that  is  to  say,  it  suffers 


OF    ENGLAND.  27 

its  subjects  to  produce  at  their  discretion  ;  protecting 
the  results  of  such  industry  by  law,  taking  for  State 
purposes  but  a  fraction  of  them,  and  this  only 
through  and  with  the  consent  of  the  Commons  House 
of  Parliament.  The  check  thus  exercised  over  the 
expenditure  of  the  State  absolutely  regulates  the 
amount  of  our  military  force ;  and  it  was  to  this  vital 
element  of  security,  more  than  to  anything  else,  that 
we  formerly  owed  the  preservation  of  our  political 
liberties.  No  one  but  a  native  Englishman  compre- 
hends how  infinitely  small  is  the  direct  action  of  the 
executive  government  in  this  kingdom.  Four-fifths 
of  the  prodigious  progress  made  in  the  arts  of  life,  and 
in  the  scientific  application  of  the  capacities  of  nature 
to  production,  have  been  efi'ected  by  private  citizens. 
The  incessant  working  of  tlie  British  mind  in  a  prac- 
tical direction  leads  to  a  gigantic  total  of  results,  such 
as  could  never  be  reached  by  any  but  a  free  commu- 
nity, it  is  true ;  but  it  is  the  character  of  the  people 
and  not  their  government  which  has  achieved  the 
social  o-reatness  of  Ens^land.  \Yhether  our  mercurial 
neighbours  would  ever  devote  themselves,  body  and 
soul,  to  the  work  of  enriching  themselves,  at  the  price 
of  sacrificing  the  taste  for  present  enjoyment,  as  well  as 
of  stifling  the  development  of  the  imaginative  faculty,  it 
is  very  difiicult  to  conjecture.  Our  impression  is  that 
they  would  not,  under  any  system  of  government, 
become  the  slaves  of  that  passion  for  acquiring  wealth 
by  which  most  Englishmen  are  subjugated. 

For  example,  here  is  a  man,  himself  lately  a  pro- 
fessor of  agronomic  science,  who,  although  his  studies 
lead  him  to  feel  the  liveliest  interest  in  the  march  of 
productive    cultivation,    nevertheless     finds,    in    the 


28  RURAL    CECONOMY 

actual  position  of  England,  no  small  ground  for 
healthy  regret  at  beholding  the  changes  which  are 
creeping  over  her  rural  features. 

Although  a  master  of  "Tabular  demonstration," 
and  a  skilful  hand  at  statistical  computations,  his 
French  turn  of  thought  revolts  at  the  eternal  appa- 
rition of  "the  shop."  Poetical  sentiment  is  never  wholly 
smothered  by  the  balance  sheet,  whilst  the  growing 
necessity  of  drugging  mother  earth,  and  of  dosing  her 
with  nasty  compounds,  turns  his  heart  chilly.  M.  La- 
vergne  not  being  an  Englishman,  he  can  see  that  which 
no  native  sees,  or  rather  that  which  no  native  chooses 
to  see — i.e.,  the  inconvenience  resulting  from  a  super- 
abundant })opulation.  It  is  this  ever-present  fact  which 
lies  at  the  bottom  of  half  the  difficulties  of  our  internal 
administration ;  including  that  of  the  countless  larvaB  of 
infant  felonry  with  which  no  vigilance,  no  legislative 
apparatus  ever  can  effectually  cope,  at  least  in  free 
England.  And  it  is  not  less  the  parent  of  those  ingenious 
devices  which  science  is  now  invoked  to  apply  to  the 
latent  capacity  of  the  earth.  After  adverting  to  the 
stupendous  laboratory  of  Mr.  Lawes,  near  St.  Albans, 
for  compounding  medicaments  Avherewith  to  whip  up 
nature,  exhausted  by  the  ordinary  methods  of  produc- 
tion, M.  Lavergne  goes  on  to  say : — 

"  That  which  sufficed  yesterday  will  not  satisfy  the 
wants  of  to-day.  The  produce  of  to-day  will  fall 
short  of  the  morrow's  demand.  Fresh  calls  must  be 
made  upon  the  earth,  our  common  parent,  for  addi- 
tional treasures,  and  unless  she  can  be  forced  to  yield 
them,  famine,  depopulation,  and  death  await  us." 

And  a  little  further  on  he  remarks  that,  "  such  is 
the  growing  conviction  in  England  of  the  necessity  of 


OF    ENGLAND.  29 

calling  in  the  aid  of  chemistry  to  quicken  the  powers 
of  nature,  that  you  will  hear  a  common  farmer  of 
the  present  day  talking  about  ammonia  and  phos- 
phates, as  though  he  were  acquainted  with  their 
composition;"  so  persuaded  is  this  class  of  the  im- 
perious need  of  extorting  more  and  more  from  natural 
agents.* 

The  efforts  made  in  agricultural  progress  some 
fifty  years  ago,  proceeded  from  members  of  the 
aristocratic  class.     Those  now  at  work  result  in  orreat 

o 

part  from  the  enterprize  and  emulation  of  a  class 
somewhat  lower  in  the  social  scale,  of  which  the 
spirited  owner  of  "  Tiptree  Hall"  is  one  of  the  most 
instructive  specimens. 

"  It  is  said  that  M.  Mechi  buries  money  in  his 
farming  experiments,  and  I  can  readily  believe  it; 
but  I  like  this  vein  of  expenditure  better  than  most 
others.  A  Paris  cockney  would  perhaps  lay  out  his 
money  in  a  smart  villa,  with  Gothic  portico,  and  a 
Swiss  hermitage,  and  other  silly  whims.  Which  is  the 
preferable  mode?"  (p.  256.) 

The  system  of  distributing,  by  tubes  or  otherwise, 
fluid  stercoraceous  matter  over  the  surface  of  our 
soil,  mainly  due  to  the  example  set  by  the  Rev.  Mr. 
Huxtable  and  Mr.  Mechi,  now  ranks  among  the  most 
effective  of  the  stimuli,  to  the  employment  of  which 


*  '•  The  agricultural  mind  is  non^  becoming  alive  to  the  fact  that, 
task  the  powers  of  cultivation  and  of  the  soil  as  we  may,  we  are  likely 
to  be  wholly  unable  to  keep  up  with  the  demands  made  upon  them  by 
our  rapidly  increasing  population ;  a  population,  too,  whose  powers  of 
consumption  are  increasing  even  in  a  greater  ratio  than  its  numbers,  so 
that  it  exhibits  day  by  day  an  increasing  desire  to  revel  in  beef  and 
mutton,"  &c.  &c. — Agricultural  Gazette  for  the  week  ending  December 
2,  1851,  No.  48. 


30  RURAL   CECONOMY 

we  are  in  course  of  being  driven.  M.  Lavergne 
seizes  the  value  of  this  provocative,  describing  the 
system  with  care  and  exactness  in  the  chapter  "  High 
Farming." 

As  to  the  stall-feeding  practice,  the  author  again 
expresses  himself  thus : — "  One  cannot  suppress  a  dis- 
agreeable emotion  on  beholding  these  poor  creatures, 
whose  relations  still  stray  over  the  immense  pasture 
grounds  of  Britain,  here  deprived  of  liberty  and 
exercise,  and  on  thinking  that  possibly  a  day  may 
come  when  the  numerous  herds  which  yet  roam  at  large 
amid  green  fields,  frisking  with  gaiety,  shall  all  be 
clapped  up  within  these  dismal  walls,  which  they  will 
quit  only  to  be  driven  to  the  slaughter-house.  These 
workhouses  for  the  production  of  meat,  milk,  and 
manure,  where  the  animal  figures  as  a  mere  machine, 
offer  something  which  is  unpleasant  to  the  imagina- 
tion ;  after  a  peep  into  one  of  these,  one's  stomach  has 
little  relish  for  meat  for  days  after.  But  the  loud 
clamours  of  necessity  impel  you  to  produce  food,  at 
all  cost,  and  no  matter  by  what  means :  mth  never 
slackening  pace  your  population  strides  onward, 
whilst  its  wants  even  outstrip  its  numbers.  Fare- 
well, then,  to  the  pastoral  scenes  and  features  of  which 
England  has  ever  boasted  the  charm,  and  which 
poets  and  painters  have  striven  with  emulous  rivalry 
to  depict  and  illustrate."  (p.  215.) 

He  suggests  indeed  two  chances — viz.,  that  the 
quality  of  the  meat  thus  managed  m-dj  at  last  grow  too 
bad  to  be  endured,  or,  that  the  unnatural  regimen 
itself  may  give  rise  to  diseases  unknown  in  our  flocks 
and  herds  under  the  old  healthy  plan  of  grazing.  All 
of  us,  at  least  all  persons  above  forty  years  of  age,  re- 


OF    ENGLAND.  31 

cognise  the  difference  between  the  old  down-fed  mutton 
of  former  times,  and  the  present  pallid,  tallowy  article 
supplied  by  butchers,  and  deplore  the  impossibility  of 
obtaining  for  money  any  better  meat.  The  decline  of 
flavour  and  quality  in  our  mutton,  nobody  indeed  dis- 
putes, but  we  are  told  that  the  farmer  can  send  the 
sheep  to  market  cheaper  at  20  months  old,  than  at  five 
years.  So  conclusive  to  all  English  minds  is  this  argu- 
ment, that  the  counteracting  contingencies  contem- 
plated by  M.  Lavergne,  of,  firstly,  an  universal 
murrain,  or,  secondly,  a  wide-spread  distaste  for  oil 
cake  as  a  bottom  dish,  however  disguised  by  the  out- 
ward semblance  of  fibrine  and  caseine,  as  checks  to 
the  cheap  production  of  meat,  do  not  re-assure  us. 
But  our  limits  warn  us  to  terminate  this  vein  of  pro- 
phecy, which  we  will  do  by  one  more  quotation  from 
our  economist's  more  sentimental  pages. 

"  Black  clouds  of  smoke  now  curl  over  the  verdant 
landscapes  so  delightfully  chanted  by  Thomson :  the 
charm  peculiar  to  English  rural  scenery  is  disappear- 
ing with  its  pastures  and  hedgerows.  The  ancient 
feudal  character  of  country  life  is  changing  under 
the  disappearance  of  its  game.  Even  its  parks  are 
regarded  with  a  sort  of  jealousy,  as  occupying  a 
surface  capable  of  being  more  profitably  culti- 
vated  

"  In  all  this  we  may  perceive  much  more  than  an 
agricultural  question ;  nay,  it  concerns  perhaps  the 
whole  structure  of  English  society.  No  one  ought 
to  affirm  that  revolutions  find  no  field  in  Enorland ; 
on  the  contrary,  revolutions  go  forward  there  as  else- 
where, only  that  they  proceed  silently  and  in  a 
leisurely  way."     And  he  adds  that  he  believes  in  the 


32  RURAL    CECONOMY 

possibility  of  adapting  the  new  to  the  old  forms  of 
society,  in  such  a  manner  as  that  Ave  shall  all  come 
out  gainers  ;  though  this  seems  to  us  a  persuasion 
requiring  vast  faith  in  the  agents  of  the  compromise. 
After  a  brief  glance  over  the  English  counties, 
their  most  striking  external  features,  soil,  productions, 
and  varying  relations  between  owner  and  cultivator, 
we  come  to  the  chapter  on  Scotland. 

Here,  as  indeed  is  the  case  with  the  author's  descrip- 
tion of  England,  much  more  than  an  agricultural 
"  coup-d'oeil"  is  presented  to  the  reader.  One  of  the 
characteristics  on  which  M.  Lavergne  dwells  with 
obvious  pleasure,  is  the  approximation,  in  that 
country,  to  the  negation  of  government. 

"  Viewed  in  a  political  light,"  says  he,  "  Scotland 
may  be  pronounced  to  be  England  perfected.  No- 
where in  Europe  is  there  less  of  administrative 
machinery :  one  must  go  to  America  to  find  an  equal 
measure  of  simplicity  in  this  respect.  A  centralized 
administration,  so  much  lauded,  which  both  vexes 
and  taxes  three-fourths  of  the  French  nation  for  the 
advantage  of  the  remaining  fourth,  stifling  through- 
out the  land  all  local  or  individual  initiatory  action, 
is  here  unknown."  (p.  345.) 
Again : — 

"  In  this  little  nation,  of  less  than  three  millions 
of  souls,  a  sense  of  connnon  interests  (that  funda- 
mental truth  so  hard  to  inculcate  through  the  lessons 
of  science)  is  recognised  by,  and  is  present  to  all. 
Scotland,  in  short,  is  a  family."   (p.  347.) 

As  with  most  travellers,  Scottish  scenery,  coupled 
as  it  is  with  traditions  of  a  picturesque  age,  disposes 
M.  Lavergne  to  poetical  musings.     He  appears  to  be 


OF    ENGLAND.  33 

perfectly  familiar  with  the  creations  of  Sir  Walter 
Scott,  and  delights  to  find  a  locality  for  his  favourite 
fictions  as  he  wanders  over  ground  hallowed  by 
those  marvellous  romances.  Shaking  off  this  seduc- 
tive mood,  however,  he  conducts  us  through  the 
"  Lowlands,"  lecturing  as  he  goes  along  upon  the 
culture  pursued,  and  the  races  of  domestic  animals 
prevalent,  in  that  section  of  North  Britain ;  touching, 
by  way  of  conclusion,  upon  the  superior  prudence 
and  self-control  displayed  by  the  Lowlanders  in 
regard  to  marriage;  their  numbers  never  exceeding 
the  limits  of  comfortable  subsistence.  Whilst  in 
England,  he  says,  the  population  has  tripled  its 
numbers,  and  that  of  Ireland  quadrupled,  Scotland 
has,  during  an  equal  interval,  only  doubled  hers;  in 
the  Lowlands,  that  is  to  say,  for  in  the  Northern 
counties  a  vastly  different  state  of  society  has  always 
subsisted. 

"  The  Highlands"  forms  a  chapter  apart,  and  will 
be  found  to  contain  much  that  is  not  generally  known 
to  Southern  readers. 

The  author  "  commences  with  the  Deluge,"  it  must 
be  premised,  but,  having  started,  runs  so  rapidly  over 
the  historical  antecedents  of  "  Bonnie  Scotland"  that 
the  reader  is  safely  landed,  at  the  end  of  about  four- 
and-twenty  pages,  enriched  with  so  much  information 
respecting  the  extraordinary  mutation  that  Scottish 
industry,  social  institutions,  and  manners  have  under- 
gone, as  will  surprise  him,  when  he  can  take  breath 
and  reflect  upon  the  space  he  has  travelled  over. 

To  sketch  an  outline  even  of  the  domestic  revolu- 
tion effected  in  the  sister  kingdom,  is  what  few 
foreigners  would  have  had  the  hardihood  to  attempt. 

D 


34  RURAL   (ECONOMY 

Still  fewer  would  have  attempted  it  with  success. 
Taking  up  Scottish  internal  history  at  the  point  of 
pure  and  complete  Feudalism — of  which  he  presents 
a  striking,  and  we  need  scarcely  add  an  attractive, 
picture — the  author  traces  the  slow  but  inevitable 
causes  through  which  this  semi-barbaric  form  of 
society  came  to  be  at  length  fused  into  civilization. 
The  most  marked  epoch  of  change  may  be  referred 
to  the  final  expulsion  of  the  Stuarts,  in  1746,  after 
which  period  the  powerful  Scottish  nobles  began  to 
think  of  framing  their  lives  somewhat  more  in  accord- 
ance with  certain  new  ideas  which  then  broke  in 
upon  their  minds:  ideas  chiefly  inspired  by  their  occa- 
sional intercourse  with  France  and  other  countries; 
nevertheless,  M.  Lavergne  is  of  opinion  that  the  feudal 
character  and  sentiment  lingered  amongst  the  Highland 
clans  longer  than  in  any  other  portion  of  Europe. 

Not  until  the  introduction  of  more  regular  habits 
and  agriculture, — accompanied  by  the  repression,  by 
vigorous  efforts,  of  the  old  system  of  living  on 
plunder — had  altered  the  condition  of  Highland  life, 
did  the  I-airds  become  aware  how  difficult  a  matter  it 
was  to  maintain  honestly,  in  those  poverty-stricken, 
barren  tracts,  the  multitudes  which,  under  a  more 
ancient  form  of  society,  had  proved  a  source  of  power 
to  the  "  chiefs  of  clans."  Accordingly,  measures  were 
set  on  foot  for  the  purpose  of  "thinning"  their 
estates  of  the  now  superabundant  natives. 

"  It  was  in  the  Highlands  that  depopulation  on  a 
regular  system  was  carried  forward,  which  depopula- 
tion made  much  noise  in  Europe  some  thirty  years 
since.  M.  Sismondi,  among  others,  doubtless  with  the 
best  intentions,  but  certainly  not  with  the  most  clear- 


OF   ENGLAND.  35 

sighted  views,  helped  in  his  day  to  stimulate  the 
public  disapprobation  of  this  proceeding;  neverthe- 
less, although  it  may  perhaps  have  been  somewhat 
roughly  executed,  the  measure  itself  has  been  pro- 
ductive of  excellent  results."  (p.  367.) 

It  so  happened  that  the  disposition  to  sweep  off 
the  redundant  mouths  from  large  landed  properties, 
was  displaying  itself  actively  at  the  commencement  of 
the  present  century,  just  at  which  period  the  great  bard 
of  feudalism.  Sir  Walter  Scott,  first  rose  upon  the  hori- 
zon of  literature.  His  captivating  chivalric  poems  had 
the  effect  of  swelling  the  storm  of  opposition  to  the 
schemes  already  in  progress  for  bringing  the  moun- 
taineers within  the  dreaded  pale  of  prosaic  institutions. 
But  in  spite  of  this,  and  although  earnest  appeals  were 
made  to  traditional  rights  against  the  justice  of  the 
expulsions  (appeals  in  themselves  far  from  ill-founded), 
the  great  landlords,  backed  by  the  far-sighted  co-opera- 
tion of  the  Imperial  Government,  carried  their  purpose 
through.  Expedients  were  employed  to  mitigate  the 
hardship  of  the  proceeding,  and  to  facilitate  the 
removal  of  the  exiles  to  other  lands.  A  part  were 
regimented  and  blended  with  our  regular  army, 
of  which  they  have  proved  themselves  gallant  and 
loyal  members,  whilst  those  who  remained  on  their 
native  hills  were  induced  gradually  to  adopt  more 
settled  habits,  and  to  pursue  more  honest  means  of 
living. 

Whoever  will  be  at  the  trouble  of  following  M. 
Lavergne's  lucid  account  of  one  of  these  memorable 
transactions,  exhibiting  the  effects  of  "  clearing,"  on 
the  largest  scale,  will,  we  are  persuaded,  be  inclined 
to  yield  a  cordial  assent  to  the  judgment  he  delivers, 

d2 


36  RURAL    (ECONOMY 

whether  as  "  economist,"  or  as  friend  to  civil  order 
and  progress. 

The  passage  we  allude  to  relates  the  prodigious 
detrusion  carried  out  under  the  orders — we  might 
almost  say  under  the  reign — of  the  late  Duchess 
Countess  of  Sutherland,  in  the  decade  ending  with 
the  year  1820. 

Karely  has  the  exercise  of  power  been  attended  with 
results  more  beneficial.  We  regret  to  be  unable  to 
reproduce  the  details  of  operations  of  which  the  fruits 
have  been  prosperity,  content,  and  moral  improvement; 
insomuch  that  already  in  1825 — "  From  the  towers 
of  their  feudal  castle  of  Dunrobin,  the  heirs  of  Mhoir- 
Fhear-Chattaibh  looked  down  upon  a  spectacle  of 
thriving  industry  such  as  it  never  could  liave  entered 
the  mind  of  their  ancestors  to  conceive  of."  (p.  378.) 

Many  suggestive  observations  accompany  the  history 
of  the  transition  we  have  been  contemplating ;  among 
them  is  one  alluding  to  a  somewhat  analogous  change  in 
England  after  the  wars  of  the  Roses  (see  p.  384).  We 
will  terminate  this  episode  with  a  passage  quoted  by  the 
author,  in  which  sober  reason  is  permitted  to  guide  the 
pen  of  a  poet.  "In  contemplating  a  landscape  bounded 
by  mountains,"  writes  Sir  Walter  Scott,*  "  rocks, 
precipices,  and  forests  assume,  in  a  summer's  evening, 
the  most  delightful  forms  and  colouring.  It  requires 
an  effort  to  recal  to  one's  mind  their  actual  sterility 
and  desolation.  So  it  is  with  the  mountaineers  them- 
selves. Seen  from  a  distance  and  through  the  medium 
of  the  fancy,  how  they  affect  the  heart  and  imagina- 
tion !     Yet  it  must  not  be  forgotten  how  incompatible 


*  In  his  Sistory  of  Scotland. 


OF   ENGLAND.  37 

was  Highland  clanship  with  all  progl'ess,  moral  or 
religious,  or  with  genuine  freedom."  (p.  385.) 

If  we  have  dwelt  somewhat  at  length  upon  the 
foregoing  topic,  it  is  because  so  vast  a  cluster  of  facts 
and  deductions  is  involved  in  the  consideration  of 
the  change  from  the  romantic  to  the  prosaic  state  of 
society — the  substitution  of  flocks  of  sheep  for  tribes 
of  brave  and  devoted,  but  lawless  warriors. 

"  Should  some  stray  descendant  of  the  Highlander 
of  yore  be  yet  discerned  here  and  there,  perched  on 
a  crag,  his  traditional  plaid  flung  over  his  shoulder, 
and  droning  out  on  his  bagpipe  some  dolorous  old 
ditty,  it  is  not  a  fighting  man  whom  you  behold,  but  a 
shepherd;  one  no  longer  subsisting  on  plunder  and 
war,  but  on  the  wages  of  the  neighbouring  farmer. 
Little  can  he  tell  you  of  the  valiant  deeds  of  his 
sires ;  but,  to  compensate  for  this  ignorance,  he  will 
inform  you  how  the  lambing  season  has  sped,  and 
whether  wools  are  'up.'  This  is  all  which  remains 
of  a  lost  race."  (p.  379.) 

This  verbal  paraphrase  of  Sir  Edwin  Landseer's 
picture  of  "  Peace  and  War,"  is  not  exhaustive,  how- 
ever. A  handful  of  men  still  survive,  whose  peculiar 
organization,  physical  and  moral,  entitles  them  to  be 
regarded  as  true  Gaels.  They  are  chiefly  engaged, 
in  connexion  with  richer  sportsmen,  in  occupations 
germane  to  their  former  condition,  such  as  huntinsf,  and 
shooting,  fishing,  and  exterminating  the  brute  com- 
petitors of  man,  in  the  pursuit  of  "  Fera3  naturae." 
And  it  is  to  be  hoped  that  these  few  representatives 
of  a  race  which  will  ever  live  in  the  picturesque 
traditions  of  distant  periods,  may  never  become 
really  extinct. 


38  RURAL   (ECONOMY    OF    ENGLAND. 

The  chapter  on  Ireland  we  must  forbear  to  touch 
upon ;  partly  because  the  mere  sound  of  that  name 
has  generally  had  the  effect  of  dispersing  the  stoutest- 
hearted  audience,  and  also  because  we  cannot  venture 
to  devote  more  space  to  M.  Lavergne's  book.  It  will 
suffice  to  state  that  he  has  imparted  to  that  hitherto 
hopeless  subject  as  much  interest  as  it  is  possible  to 
connect  with  it;  bringing  into  cheerful  prominence 
the  improved  prospects  of  Irish  industry,  together 
with  the  benefits  arising  from  the  operation  of  Sir 
John  Romilly's  Act  for  disposing  of  encumbered 
estates. 


POSTSCRIPT   IN   1863. 


Six  years  have  gone  over  since  the  foregoing  review  of  M. 
Lavergne's  work  upon  England  was  penned^  yet  on  reflection, 
there  appears  in  it  but  little  to  modify.  On  one  point, 
perhaps,  it  may  be  well  to  note  a  change  ;  I  mean  in  what 
regards  the  interference  of  the  English  Government  in  the 
domestic  affairs  of  the  people. 

It  is  remarked  in  the  review,  how  small  the  amount  of 
Government  interference  has  ever  been  in  this  nation  ;  but  I 
regret  to  say  the  case  is  altered  of  late.  For  instance,  the 
expenditure,  by  the  Executive  Government,  of  a  sum  of  money 
reaching  the  enormous  amount  of  800,000^  in  the  year,  for 
the  purpose  of  educating  the  children  of  parents,  unable  or 
unwilling  to  bear  the  expense  of  school  teaching  for  them, 
has  led  to  a  system  of  widespread  centralized  influence  and 
control  over  the  rural  population  throughout  the  land.  In 
nearly  every  part  of  the  country,  the  village  school  is  now 
brought  under  the  management  of  a  Government  official. 
The  condition  of  granting  to  any  school  a  portion  of  the  money 
voted  by  Parliament  for  education  is,  that  the  school  must 
be  presided  over  by  a  "  certificated  teacher."  After  this  comes 
a  stipulation  that  a  Government  oflicer  or  inspector  shall 
periodically  visit  and  examine  into  the  mode  of  managing  tlie 
school.  And  in  the  third  place,  a  class  of  persons  is  created, 
dependent  on  Government  employment  and  favour,  called 
"  pupil  teachers ;"  maintained  at  the  public  cost,  and 
lodged  in  capacious  and  expensive  public  buildings,  and 
all  this,  forsooth,  in  order  to  train  young  people  to  teach 
reading,  writing,  and  summing,  or  the  "  A,  B,  C,"  of 
learning. 


40  POSTSCRIPT. 

Without  entering  into  statistical  details  concerning  the 
results,  beneficial  or  otherwise,  of  this  vast,  and  I  may  add, 
unwieldy  machinery,  I  must  be  permitted  to  observe  that,  the 
introduction  of  it  into  the  social  economy  of  this  country  tends 
to  destroy  one  of  the  recognised  features  of  English  character, 
viz.,  the  ability  and  disposition  to  manage  our  own  affairs 
without  being  interfered  with  by  Government.  Many  bene- 
volent country  residents  assuredly  feel  the  presence  of  official 
rule  as  unpleasant.  Proprietors  of  land,  who  would  naturally 
interest  themselves  in  the  schooling  of  their  districts,  find 
their  suggestions  overridden,  and  the  superintending  function 
wholly  exercised  by  the  Parson  and  the  Government.  The 
numerous  candidates  for  places  under  the  Committee  of 
Education  of  the  Privy  Council,  form  a  body  of  humble 
dependents,  and  the  idea  of  pleasing  the  dominant  authorities 
takes  entire  possession  of  their  mind. 

This  state  of  things  is  a  novelty  amongst  us,  and  I  must 
add  that  its  establishment  is  likely  to  weaken,  if  not  to  efface, 
the  habit  of  local  activity  and  spontaneous  organization  for 
purposes  of  useful  exi^enditure.  It  has  something  of  the  effect 
of  a  poor  law,  in  so  far  as  it  renders  people  in  humble  circum- 
stances careless  of  the  obligation  contracted  by  the  parental 
relation ;  disposing  them  to  claim  the  aid  of  the  State  for 
the  schooling  of  their  offspring,  in  like  manner  as  they  claim, 
in  right  of  the  poor  law,  food  and  shelter,  when  unable  or 
reluctant  to  procure  these  by  their  own  industry. 

It  is  beside  my  purpose  to  go  into  the  arguments  by  which 
the  necessity  for  bringing  village  or  rural  schooling  under 
Government  superintendence  is  generally  sustained.  Perhaps 
we  have  reached  that  stage  in  our  social  history,  whei'ein  the 
imperfect  performance  of  the  duties  required  of  rural 
parishioners  comes  to  be  felt  as  a  species  of  disgrace,  and 
wherein  the  ideas  of  the  community,  as  to  the  skilful  employ- 
ment of  means  to  ends,  have  outrun  ancient  modes  and  habits. 
We  may  see  daily  instances  of  the  impatience  manifested  by 
the  English  public,  of  the  smallest  shortcomings  on  the  part 
of  individuals  entrusted  with  the  management  of  any  machi- 


POSTSCRIPT.  41 

neiy  bearing  on  the  general  convenience — post-office,  railway- 
companies,  innkeeping,  packet  companies,  telegraph  workers 
— no  matter  what  the  inaccuracy  or  incompleteness,  John 
Bull  is  become  so  exigent  since  he  has  grown  so  wealthy,  that 
he  will  not  endure  the  old  dilatory  methods  of  carrying  on 
the  business  of  administrative  life  by  voluntary  or  quasi-volun- 
tary agencies. 

When  a  nation  has  come  to  be  pampered  by  extra- 
ordinary facilities  of  locomotion  and  intercommunication, 
and  indeed  by  the  adequate  organization  of  most  of 
the  departments  connected  with  material  comfort,  the  few 
examples  which  remain  of  old  systems  strike  us  as  intolerably 
clumsy,  and  inapproj)riate  to  the  circumstances  of  the  period. 
And,  at  this  point  of  public  sentiment,  a  lively  conception  of 
the  comparative  advantages  of  centralization  lays  hold  of  the 
imagination,  and  so  gradually  allows  this  principle  to  take 
root  in  our  institutions. 

The  spread  of  this  principle  in  Great  Britain  I  take  to  be 
fraught  with  injurious  consequences  to  the  national  character ; 
Ave  are  entering  upon  a  changed  state  of  things,  wherein  for 
the  sake  of  escaping  the  tiresome  obligations  involved  in 
citizenship,  the  indolent  man  accepts  the  direction  of  the 
Executive  Government.  Commissioners,  lay  and  ecclesiastical, 
inspectors,  and  "Boards,"  now  control  the  action  of  a  great 
portion  of  our  domestic  economy,  whilst  the  ramifying  fibres 
of  the  "  Committee  of  the  Pi'ivy  Council,"  appear  to  pervade 
the  entire  surface  of  society. 

Of  course  the  feeling  of  a  rich  man  is  first  to  enjoy,  and 
next  to  avoid  trouble.  And  when  this  last  desire  reaches  the 
amount  now  apparently  present  in  the  English  mind,  cen- 
tralization offers  an  easy  relief,  and  the  surrender  of  individual 
shares  in  the  conduct  of  the  national  concerns  is  made  without 
compunction. 

Thus  I  have  briefly  sketched  the  course  which  a  community 
follows  when  influenced  by  two  puissant  causes.  1.  A  condition 
of  great  wealth,  raising  as  it  does  the  standard  of  "  perform- 
ance" throughout  the  functional  scale ;  and  2,  this  same  wealth 


42  POSTSCRIPT. 

engendering  an  inordinate  appetite  for  enjoyment,  which  is  in- 
compatible with  the  discharge  of  gratuitous,  obscure,  and  labo- 
rious services  to  society,  or  "  civic  functions."  Centralization,  in 
short,  to  my  view,  is  a  symptom  of  social  decline  in  a  free, 
active,  and  healthful  community ;  but  whether  it  be  destined 
to  enlarge  its  operations  over  the  English  people,  or  whether 
they  will  offer  timely  resistance  to  its  progress,  must  chiefly 
depend  upon  the  conduct  of  our  political  teachers  in  and  out  of 
Parliament.  In  comparison  with  an  able  "  platform"  speaker, 
even  good  writers  exercise  but  a  secondary  influence. 

I  shall  be  told  that  the  step  taken  by  Government, in  assuming 
the  direction  of  the  enormous  expenditure  voted  for  purposes 
of  education,  was  prompted  by  the  annually  augmenting  evil 
of  its  maladministration  by  the  parochial  and  other  resident 
managers.  But  I  demur  to  the  expenditure  itself.  It  is  out 
of  all  proportion  with  its  objects.  And  I  am  persuaded  that 
less  than  one  half  of  the  sum  voted  by  Parliament  out  of  the 
taxes,  in  aid  of  the  teaching  of  poor  children,  would  suffice  to 
impart  so  much  elementary  education  as  the  State  ought  to  be 
called  upon  to  assist  in  supplying  to  the  working  classes. 
However,  these  speculations  have  extended  to  a  length  which 
obliges  me  to  conclude,  after  remarking  that  an  undue  portion 
of  the  wealth  of  this  country  seems  to  be,  at  the  present  time, 
employed  in  teaching  the  poor  to  rely  on  the  rich  for  obtain- 
ing many  things  which  they  ought  properly  to  aim  at  obtain- 
ing by  their  own  labour  and  their  own  virtues. 


THE    CASE 


THE  POOR  AGAINST  THE  RICH 


FAIRLY   CONSIDERED 


A    MUTUAL    miEND. 


THE  AUTHOR  TO  THE  READER. 


These  pages  have  cost  me  too  much  thought  and  too  much 
labour  to  be  consigned  to  obUvion  without  an  attempt  to  render 
them  of  some  use.  They  were  designed  for  publication  in  one  or 
other  of  the  quarterly  periodicals,  but  could  obtain  admission  into 
neither,  for  various  reasons,  not  necessary  to  assign  here. 

The  hope  of  obtaining  the  attention,  and,  possibly,  the  con- 
currence in  my  opinions,  of  even  a  small  number  of  readers,  induces 
me  to  print  my  "rejected  article"  in  an  independent  form;  and  it 
will  compensate  me  for  the  pains  bestowed  upon  its  composition,  if 
I  should  succeed  in  rectifying,  even  in  a  slight  measure,  certain 
errors  (aU  the  more  formidable  for  being  conscientious)  which  prevail 
on  the  subject  of  the  inequahty  of  conditions  between  Eich  and 
Poor. 

London,  Feb.  1850. 


THE  RICH  AND  THE  POOR. 


Though  the  work  we  are  about  to  notice*  is  by  no 
means  a  recent  production,  it  has  been  selected  from 
a  mass  of  similar  labours  on  account  of  the  rare  qualifi- 
cations brought  to  it  by  the  author,  and  the  ability 
with  which  he  has  embodied  certain  views  which,  in 
our  opinion,  require  to  be  controverted  and  corrected. 

At  the  time  when  M.  Leon  Faucher  made  his  tour 
through  the  manufacturing  districts  in  England,  the 
question  of  '  Le  droit  de  travail'  had  not  acquired 
that  formidable  pre-eminence  which  we  have  lived  to 
see  it  arrive  at  in  the  minds  of  his  countrymen. 

The  question  of  poverty  and  its  painful  derivatives 
has,  however,  long  engaged  the  attention  of  some  of 
the  clearest-headed  and  most  benevolent  individuals 
among  the  political  men  of  France,  and  especially  of 
M.  Leon  Faucher,t  a  writer  formerly  known  to  the 
public  as  the  able  "  redacteur-en-chef "  of  the  "Courrier 
Fran9ais;"  an  instructed  political  economist  and 
financier,  and  wielding,  perhaps,  one  of  the  finest 
controversial  pens  of  the  time. 


*  Etudes    8ur    rAngleterre.     Par  Leon  Faucher.     Paris.     1845. 
2  vols. 
t  Lately  Minister  of  the  Literior  under  Louis  Napoleon. 


48  THE    RICH    AND    THE    POOR. 

This  gentleman,  profiting  by  a  period  of  leisure 
which  his  secession  from  the  "  Courrier  Francais" 
afi'orded,  undertook  a  journey  through  several  of  the 
British  provinces,  with  a  view  to  obtain  an  insight 
into  the  comparative  condition  of  the  people  in  Great 
Britain,  as  well  as  to  examine  the  working  of  our 
manufacturing  system ;  to  portray  its  material  and  in- 
dustrial features,  and  to  acquire,  if  possible,  the  means 
of  communicating  to  his  countrymen  the  secret  of  our 
prodigious  prosperity.  M.  Faucher  was,  indeed, 
already  in  some  sort  familiar  with  the  subject,  having 
previously  travelled  in  England  (of  which  he  possessed 
the  language  sufficiently  well),  and  made  notes  of 
much  that  appeared  to  deserve  attention.  Moreover, 
his  connexion  with  many  leading  public  men  here,  and 
the  facilities  with  which  they  furnished  him  for  pene- 
trating into  the  very  heart  of  our  manufacturing  hives, 
gave  M.  Faucher  advantages  which  rarely  attend  a 
foreigner  on  a  tour  of  curiosity  in  a  rival  country. 
His  work,  therefore,  of  which  we  have  given  the  title 
at  the  head  of  this  article,  is  entitled  to  respectful 
attention,  as  containing,  first,  a  thoroughly  veracious 
account  of  what  the  author  saw  with  his  own  eyes 
(and  which,  by  the  way,  very  few  of  us,  we  suspect, 
have  seen,  or  would  even  wish  to  see  with  ours) ;  and 
secondly,  a  tolerabl}^  comprehensive  summary  of  the 
views,  opinions,  and  aims  of  a  class  who  may  not 
unaptly  be  described  as  "  operative  philanthropists." 

To  give  any  adequate  notion  of  the  quantity  of  facts 
and  speculations  comprised  in  these  two  interesting 
volumes  would  require  long  extracts,  as  w^ell  from 
M.  Faucher's  descriptive  chapters,  as  from  those  in 
which  he  seeks  to   unravel  the  incoherent  mass  of 


THE  RICH  AND  THE  POOR.  49 

phenomena  composing  our  motley,  and  probably 
unique,  form  of  society.  But  the  leading  impressions 
he  seems  to  have  carried  awav  with  him  are,  that 
England  offers  the  most  forcible  contrasts  which  human 
life  can  furnish.  Splendour  and  comfort  are  every- 
where to  be  found  side  by  side  with  misery;  benevo- 
lence, piet}^,  love  of  order,  in  company  with  squalid 
indigence,  and  debauched  and  vicious  habits;  whilst 
industry,  talents,  and  the  domestic  virtues  are  to  be 
found  flourishing  in  the  centre  of  depraved  multitudes. 
The  manufacturing  "hives"  present  equally  marked 
contrasts — vast  masses  of  workpeople  shall  be  comfort- 
ably cared  for  and  their  morals  watched  over,  in  one 
district;  whilst  in  others,  the  human  species  shall  be 
found  de2:raded  to  the  level  of  swine.  Beholdino;  these 
monstrous  inequalities  of  lot  amongst  the  members  of 
one  community,  M.  Faucher  is  prompted  to  express  a 
sentiment  which,  indeed,  seems  but  too  just  and 
natural,  in  regard  to  the  sacrifice  of  human  life  and 
powers  by  which  the  prodigious  wealth  and  power  of 
England  have  been  acquired.  M.  Faucher  deems  the 
price  paid  for  our  superiority  too  great — he  considers 
the  manufacturing  system  to  have  been  reared  upon 
an  inhuman  basis,  and  thinks  that  a  severe  i^etrihution 
must  overtake  the  capitalists  sooner  or  later.  Further- 
more, w^hilst  he  accords  to  the  over- worked  factory 
labourer  a  measure  of  deep  commiseration,  he  reserves 
a  scarcely  inferior  feeling  of  pity  and  sympathy  for  the 
agricultural  or  out-door  labourer.  Xo  class,  in  short, 
earning  their  subsistence  by  labour  in  this  country, 
but  is  an  object  of  profound  compassion,  excepting, 
perhaps,  those  individual  factories  whose  proprietors, 
like  Messrs.   Greg,    Strutt,   Ash^vorth,  and   Ashton, 

E 


50  THE  RICH  AND  THE  POOR. 

consent  to  dedicate  a  portion  of  their  time  and  atten- 
tion to  the  well-being  of  their  people. 

" Lorsque  les  premieres  atteintes  du  mal  industriel  se  fiient  sentir 
en  Angleterre,  on  essaya  d'abord  d'en  detourner  les  yeux;    Ton   en 

contcsta  la  realite Plus  tard,  le  recensement  de  la  population 

ayant  fait  connaitre  I'effroyable  mortalite  des  districts  manufacturiers, 
et  la  publication  des  tables  criminelles  ayant  montre  I'accroissement 
des  dclits,  il  ne  fut  plus  possible  de  prolonger  ces  illusions.  Alors 
la  discussion  roporta  sur  les  causes  du  desordre  nouveau  qui  venait 
de  se  reveler.  Pendant  que  I'aristocratie  fonciere  en  accusait 
I'industrie  elle-meme,  et  ne  voyait  dans  I'activite  des  ateliers  que  des 
germes  de  mort,  I'aristocratie  industrielle  s'en  prenait  aux  lois  et  a. 
I'etat  de  la  societe.  Bient6t  les  avocats  des  manufactures,  quittant 
la  defensive,  ont  cliercbe  a  etablir  que  la  condition  des  populations 
rurales  etait  encore  inferieure  k  celle  des  ouvriers  fileurs  ou  tisseurs  ; 
niais  tout  ce  qu'ils  ont  prouve  en  jetant  sur  les  faits  cette  cruelle  lumi^re, 
c'est  que  le  mal  existait  des  deux  cotes." — Tome  i.  p.  381. 

Without  concurring  in  the  loose  declamatory  accusa- 
tions against  the  wealthy,  which  are  now  so  commonly 
vented  by  the  "  friends  of  the  poor"  par  excellence, 
M.  Faucher  is  nevertheless  impelled,  by  the  strong 
feelings  of  humanity  he  cherishes,  to  address  them  in 
the  following  language — in  reference  to  the  foregoing 
statements : — 

"  II  y  a  la  un  scandale  qui  pese  a  la  conscience  publique  ;  chacun 
sent  bicn  que,  dans  un  pays  oii  de  pareilles  maladies  se  declarent,  les 
bommes  qui  president  a  la  direction  de  I'ordre  social  ne  sauraient 
ecbapper  a  toute  responsabilite 

"  II  est  triste,  quand  on  aspire  a  une  renommee  de  richesse,  de  force, 
et  de  moralite,  de  se  voir  montre  an  doigt  en  Europe,  et  de  deveuir  pour 
les  uns  un  sujet  de  reproclie,  pour  les  autres  un  objet  de  pitie 

"  Enfin,  I'Angleterre  comprend  que  son  avenir  rnSme  est  menace. 
(Jn  peuple  aussi  profondcment  attache  au  culte  de  la  matiere  doit 
mettre  la  force  physique  au  premier  rang  des  elemens  sur  lesquels 
repose  la  puissance  d'un  etat,  et  il  doit  s'alarmer  plus  qu'un  autre 
des  qu'il  voit  decliner,  sous  I'influence  des  privations  combinees  avec 
I'intemperance  et  avec  I'exces  du  travail,  la  constitution  des  ouvriers. 

II  s'est  organise   (i.  e.,  le  peuple)  pour    une    sorte  de  lutte 

universelle  avec  le  monde  civilise,  qu'il  defie  tout  ensemble  dans  les 
conquetes  aussi  peu  pacifiques  de  I'industrie.  Comment  ne  trem- 
blerait-il  pas,  a  la  seule  idee  d'une  diminution  probable  dans   I'effi- 


THE    RICH    AND    THE   POOR.  51 

cacit6  des  instrumens  avec  lesquels  il  combat  et  il  produit." — Tome  i. 
pp.  377—380. 

These  appeals  to  the  conscience  as  well  as  to  the 
fears  of  the  educated  classes,  dictated  as  they  are  by 
the  sincerest  benevolence,  have  their  use  in  keeping 
alive  that  sense  of  duty  towards  inferiors  which  is 
indispensable  to  the  existence  of  civilized  society.  But 
we  must  be  allowed  to  observe  that,  to  English  ears, 
they  savour  of  that  entire  ignorance  of  what  we  are 
doing,  and  what  has  been  doing,  in  regard  to  our 
domestic  organization,  which  is  so  universal  in  the 
French  mind  when  treating  of  England.  It  is, 
perhaps,  on  this  account,  superfluous  to  wonder  that 
M.  Faucher  should  not  be  aware  that  no  subject, 
bearing  on  our  internal  condition,  has  occupied  any- 
thin  s;  like  the  same  des-ree  of  laborious  attention  and 
earnest  solicitude,  both  on  the  part  of  the  legislature 
and  the  influential  classes,  lay  and  clerical,  for  the  last 
twenty  years,  as  this  very  problem  of  the  increase  of 
indigence.  And  if  we  are  no  nearer  to  the  discovery 
of  a  means  of  extinguishing  it  than  before,  it  is  well 
to  have  laboured  heartily  to  that  end,  as  we  have  done, 
and  to  have  accomplished  the  most  eiFectual  mitigation 
of  the  evil  which  the  actual  condition  of  society 
admitted  of, — viz.,  the  New  Poor  Law  of  1835. 

But  in  order  to  appreciate  the  efl?brts  made  by 
Eno;land  towards  a  healthier  state  of  morals  and 
comfort  among  her  working  population,  it  ought  to  be 
carefully  ascertained  how  much  of  human  suffering  is 
curable  by  human  agency,  and  how  much  incurable. 
The  Turk  or  Egyptian  fatalist  quietly  resigns  himself 
to  misfortune  and  suffering,  in  the  belief  that  no  part 
of  it  is  curable  by  man.     This  is  one  end  of  the  scale 

E  2 


OZ  THE  RICH  AND  THE  POOR. 

of  faith.  At  the  opposite  end  may  be  found  sanguine 
and  self-sufficient  social  doctors,  who  affirm  "  that  it 
savours  of  impiety  to  say  that  miy  form  of  evil  is 
beyond  the  power  of  society  to  remedy."  Such  a 
declaration  was  actually  published  by  a  "  club"  formed 
a  short  time  since  at  Paris,  calling  itself  "  Le  Cercle 
Constitutionnel,"  in  which  many  respected  names  were 
enrolled;  among  others,  that  of  M.  Gustave  de 
Beaumont,  late  Ambassador  of  the  French  Republic 
in  England.  These  persons,  we  repeat,  are  at  the 
opposite  end  of  the  scale.  We  should  ourselves  be 
glad  to  hit  the  precise  "juste  milieu,"  but  not  having 
that  pretension,  we  think  it  a  righteous  employment 
of  our  faculties  to  sift  the  efficacy  of  current  projects, 
by  tracing  their  indubitable  effects  beforehand. 

To  begin  with  the  most  generally  approved  specific, 
increased  charity.  "  If  the  rich  would  only  open  their 
purses  wider,"  cry  the  plate-holders^  "we  should  hear  no 
more  complaints  about  want  and  suffering."  "  It  is  the 
indolent  neglect  of  the  poor  by  the  wealthy,"  say  the 
Puritans,  "which  causes  the  dreadful  spread  of  poverty 
and  crime."  These,  and  a  hundred  forms  of  the  same 
Y)roposition,  are  as  familiar  to  our  readers  as  the  song 
of  birds,  no  doubt,  and  leave  a  certain  indefinable  but 
disagreeable  trace  behind  them.  We  will  look  into 
the  value  of  this  nostrum  first  in  order,  beginning  with 
its  practical  side,  apart  from  its  sentimental  character. 

There  can  be  no  doubt  that  every  shilling  bestowed 
in  alms  is  a  shilling  the  less  in  that  fund  destined  to 
remunerate  labour  withal.  For  nothing  is  more  fa- 
bulous than  the  thing  called  "  superfluity."  People  in 
easy  circumstances  either  spend,  or  give  away,  or  save 
the  money  they  have  to  dispose  of.  What  is  given  away 


THE  RICH  AND  THE  POOR.  53 

to  the  poor  is,  of  course,  also  spent,  by  the  party  receiv- 
ing it,  improd  actively.  What  is  saved  might  be  like- 
wise given ;  but  if  no  savings  are  made,  all  provision 
against  casual  reverses,  as  well  as  all  accumulation  of 
capital,  destined  to  reproduce  wealth,  is  annihilated — 
a  consequence  which  cannot  be  too  emphatically  de- 
precated. But  whilst  we  estimate  the  agency  of 
charitable  donations  as  a  very  inadequate  counterpoise 
to  the  pressure  of  the  general  mass  of  poverty  in  a 
community,  it  is  fitting  that  the  wide  extent  to  which 
the  habit  of  benevolence  is  practised  in  Great  Britain 
should  be  placed  in  a  strong  light,  by  way  of  proving 
that  the  experiment  has  at  least  been  extensively  tried. 
When,  indeed,  we  come  to  look  into  the  amount  of 
what  is  given,  without  a  shadow  of  return,  by  rich  to 
poor  in  this  country — not  counting  various  services  in 
person  rendered  by  rich  men — its  magnitude  is  asto- 
nishing. Setting  aside  the  enormous  standing  provi- 
sion for  sick  and  infirm  (the  result  of  endowments), 
and  for  educational  objects,  an  Englishman  of  fortune 
seldom  has  his  purse  out  of  his  hand.  He  pays  all 
sorts  of  legal  demands  for  the  subsistence  of  the  poor 
in  the  first  place;  next,  he  subscribes  to  various  public 
charities,  also  to  plougliing-matches,  &c. ;  he  assists 
poor  dependents ;  supports  decayed  relations ;  he  gives 
alms  on  the  highways ;  he  drops  money  into  the  charity- 
plate  at  dinners  and  after  sermons;  he  encloses  five- 
pound  notes  to  the  police  magistrates,  as  from  "A.  X." ; 
he  distributes  coals,  clothes,  meat  at  Christmas;  he 
gives  land  to  build  a  school  upon ;  he  pays  for  the 
doctors  of  the  poor;  he  lends  to  inferiors,  and  never 
gets  paid;  finally,  he  dies  and  leaves  bequests  to  half- 
a-dozen  eleemosynary  institutions,  and  to  humble  ser- 


54  THE    RICH    AND    THE  POOR. 

vitors,  and  not  unfrequently  founds  a  provision  for  an 
annual  gift. 

The  female  members  of  the  gentry  class  are,  all  this 
time,  toiling  at  the  work  of  benevolence  in  its  domestic 
forms — overlooking  schools,  stitching  sedulously  at 
nightgowns  and  baby -linen,  or  at  "  fancy-fair"  articles; 
teaching  girls  straw-plaiting,lace-making ;  hearing  cate- 
chisms on  Sundays,  tormenting  their  acquaintance  to 
purchase  the  useless  productions  of  surabundant  hands ; 
distributing  soup-tickets ; — in  fine,  co-operating,  with 
their  gentle,  kind  efforts,  in  the  grand  and  commend- 
able purpose  of  mitigating  the  evils  of  poverty  in  the 
lower  ranks  of  life.  Go  into  what  neighbourhoods 
you  will,  the  standing  feature  in  every  country  resi- 
dence is  "  the  charity"  business.  Where,  indeed,  is  the 
rural  abode,  we  would  ask,  where  the  visitor  is  safe 
from  "  the  plate,"  or  the  subscription-book  ?  Is  there 
a  provincial  dinner-table  at  which  the  topic  of  poor- 
law,  board  of  guardians,  or  the  like,  does  not  take  pre- 
cedence of  all  others  ?  It  is  hardly  prudent  to  attend 
your  host's  parish  church,  even ;  for  it  is  ten  to  one 
but  that  you  are  "  let  in"  for  a  "  collection"  at  the 
door,  after  sermon ;  and  all  this  on  the  back  of  a  tax 
amounting  to  something  like  seven  millions  of  pounds 
per  annum ! 

Such  is  but  an  imperfect  outline  of  the  "  charitable" 
habits  of  an  English  family  of  average  benevolence  and 
means,  for  we  do  not  believe  that  any  one  except  a 
native  of  Great  Britain  has  any  conception  of  the  ex- 
tent to  which  an  Englishman's  fortune  and  time  are 
dedicated  to  the  work  of  doing  good.  It  is,  perhaps, 
unmatched  in  the  world.  After  this,  one  would  sup- 
pose that  the  gentleman  (or  gentlewoman),  who  gives 


THE  RICH  AND  THE  POOR.  55 

and  labours  in  all  these  forms,  would  be  allowed  to 
spend  and  enjoy  the  rest  of  his  or  her  income,  and 
attend  to  their  six  children  in  peace  and  quiet.  Not 
a  bit  of  it.  "  Is  it  in  human  nature,"  said  the  late 
Sydney  Smith,  in  one  of  his  Essays,  "  that  A  should 
see  B  in  distress,  and  not  order  C  to  assist  him  ?"  The 
whole  squad  of  humanity-foragers  are  upon  him  with 
their  appeals  on  behalf  of  some  species  of  misery  which 
they  have  undertaken  to  assuage ;  and  in  fact,  if  we 
would  listen  to  these  eternal  emissaries,  nobody  would 
have  a  moment's  respite  so  long  as  any  poor  folks 
could  be  found  lacking  something  or  another,  or  a 
disease  unprovided  with  a  special  asylum.  Under  this 
sort  of  persecution,  the  possession  of  wealth  almost 
ceases  to  be  a  blessing.  If  we  were  not  to  resist  such 
attacks,  the  world  of  England  might,  in  due  time, 
become  one  vast  field  for  the  labours  of  the  Dorcas 
tribe,  whilst  the  more  wholesome  sources  of  good-will 
and  sympathy  would  be  vulgarized  and  transmuted 
into  the  most  commonplace  of  all  ties — the  connexion 
between  rich  and  poor  through  the  medium  of  the 
purse. 

It  would  be  doing  injustice  to  the  sound  understand- 
ing of  M.  Faucher  to  imply  that  he  is  a  believer  in  the 
efficacy  of  charity  as  a  cure  for  our  social  evils,  although, 
as  a  wholesome  exercise  of  the  beneficent  principle,  he 
is,  naturally,  anxious  to  see  it  practised.  As  might 
be  expected  of  so  sensible  a  man,  he  has  other  sug- 
gestions to  offer,  and  does  not,  after  the  manner  of 
"  Boz,"  leave  his  readers  with  nothing  but  a  vague  sen- 
timent of  pity  for  the  oppressed,  and  an  equally  vague 
detestation  of  the  oppressors — by  which  is  understood, 
in  modern  parlance,  the  comfortable  classes.     We  are, 


56  THE  KICH  AND  THE  POOR. 

liowfcver,  unable  to  concur  in  the  merits  of  M.  Fauclier's 
principal  scheme  as  a  counterpoise  to  the  moral  and 
physical  degradation  of  the  poor;  we  confess  that  we 
see  in  it  little  else  than  another  form  of  charity,  and  feel 
therefore  that  its  impracticability  is  scarcely  a  matter  of 
regret.     He,  like  most  Frenchmen,  considers  the  occu- 
pancy of  land,  in  never  so  small  a  parcel,  by  the  poor 
man,  to  be  the  proper  remedy  against  indigence,  as  well 
as  a  pledge  of  his  disposition  to  maintain  the  laws 
and  ordinances  of  society.     "  The  larger  the  number 
interested  in  agricultural  occupations  on  their  own 
account,"  says  M.  Faucher, "  the  safer  are  your  national 
institutions."     Now,  there  can  be  no  doubt  that  the 
possession  of  property  of  any  kind  binds  the  party  by 
so  much  to  the  protection  of  the  institution  of  property ; 
but  does  it  not  occur  to  the  advocates  of  this  doctrine 
that,  in  order  to  multiply  proprietors  of  land,  you  must 
first  find  possessors  of  land  willing  to  part  with  it,  and 
next,  poor  men  able  to  purchase  ?    If  the  working  man 
have  money,  he  can  purchase,  not  else.  In  France^  land 
is  sold,  not  given ;  the  same  would  happen  here  at  the 
present  time  if  the  poor  man  were  able  to  buy  land. 
"  But  let  him  have  land  on  hire,  then,"  say  the  friends 
of  the  system  of  "  petite  culture."     Here  we  not  only 
meet  the  obstacle  we  alluded  to  above,  viz.,  the  reluc- 
tance of  owners  to  give  up  land  for  this  purpose ;  but 
we  are  compelled  to  justify  it  by  adducing  the  example 
of  landowners  in  a  neighbouring  island,  who,  having 
once  granted  their  land  on  hire,  are  absolutely  cut  off 
from  all  control  over  it  in  time  to  come.  In  the  county 
of  Donegal,  not  many  years  since,  a  gentleman,  wishing 
to  re-enter  into  the  occupation  of  his  own  domain  at 
the  expiration  of  the  term  for  which  it  had  been  let  to 


THE  RICH  AND  THE  POOR.  57 

a  number  of  small  cultivators,  was  met  by  a  threat  of 
assassination;  and  on  his  causing  his  agent  to  enforce 
his  orders,  the  agent  was  doomed  to  death,  and  would 
have  been  shot  wdthout  scruple,  had  not  one  of  the 
party,  suspecting  the  fidelity  of  his  confederates,  anti- 
cipated their  treachery  by  informing  against  them,  and 
thus  saved  the  steward's  life.  Experience  shows  that 
few  things  are  more  difficult  than  to  recover  posses- 
sion of  land  once  yielded  up  to  persons  of  very  small 
means ;  for  that  wdiich  is  granted  on  a  revocable  tenure 
passes  sooner  or  later  into  something  like  fixity  of 
tenure,  so  incomplete  is  the  process  by  which  the  real 
owner  endeavours  to  regain  it.  It  was  remarked,  in  a 
recent  number  of  the  Edinburgh  Review  ("Claims  of 
Labour"), that  the  holding  land  on  hire  did  not,  after  all, 
impart  a  sense  of  independence  to  the  labourer,  whilst 
it  had  the  disadvantage  of  impeding  his  removal  to 
other  districts  as  occasion  might  serve.  It  would  not, 
at  all  events,  meet  the  case  of  the  town  workman,  for 
the  mill-hands  could  not  cultivate  the  soil  if  they  had 
it;  nor,  even  assuming  that  they  knew  how  to  do  so, 
would  they  have  energy  and  strength  left  sufficient  to 
walk  out  (after  dark,  for  the  most  part,  too)  to  the 
jDlots  granted  them  in  the  vicinity  of  densely-inhabited 
towns,  necessarily  distant  from  their  abodes.  And 
indeed,  whilst  overwork  is  the  real  curse  of  their  con- 
dition, who  would  recommend  night  walks  and  spade 
culture  in  addition  ?  As  to  form-labourers,  few  of  our 
cottages  are  without  a  bit  of  garden-ground  adequate 
to  their  wants,  which  furnishes  employment  for  them 
at  spare  times ;  and  we  are  far  from  believing  that  the 
major  portion  desire  to  rent  more,  unless  upon  terms 
implying  a  sacrifice  by  the  owner   in  their  favour. 


58  THE  RICH  AND  THE  TOOK. 

When  Lord  Eadnor,  for  example,  kindly  consented  to 
let  portions  of  ground  to  labourers  at  a  rent  equal,  or 
nearly  equal,  to  the  market  value,  a  perfect  outcry  was 
set  up  against  him,  both  by  labourers  and  by  "  friends 
of  the  labourer,"  because  he  did  not  offer  it  at  half  its 
worth,  giving  the  labourer  the  difference !  This 
incident  plainly  shows  the  animus  with  which  the 
"friends  of  the  poor"  ask  the  rich  to  "  encourage"  them. 

M.  Faucher's  proposal  for  granting  allotments  we 
must,  then,  respectfully  dismiss  as  impracticable, 
except  in  detached  districts;  as  well  on  account  of 
the  difficulty  of  getting  the  land  yielded  up  for  it, 
near  to  large  towns,  in  sufficient  quantity,  as  on  the 
ground  of  the  factory  workpeople  having  no  spare 
power  of  toil  left,  after  working  all  day  in  the  mill. 

We  have  now  to  consider  another  of  M.  Faucher's 
expedients.  It  is,  that  the  capitalist,  or  master  of  a 
mill  or  factory,  or  establishment  for  industrial  opera- 
tions of  any  sort,  should  be  induced  to  forego  that 
character,  or  to  blend  with  it  that  of  associate,  or 
partner,  with  the  workmen  whom  he  employs;  and 
this,  in  the  view  of  engaging  a  "  moral  support"  on 
the  part  of  the  co-operative  workpeople. 

"  Quant  aux  benefices,  apres  avoir  mis  apart  un  cinquieme  pour 
le  fouds  de  reserve,  on  les  partagerait,  par  egales  moitius,  antra  le 
maitre  at  les  corps  des  ouvriers.  II  va  sans  dire  que  j'entends  ce 
partage  comma  uue  concession  volontaire,  a  laquelle  chaqua  manufac- 
turier  apporterait  les  conditions,"  &c.  &c. — Tome  i.  p.  432,  et  seq. 

It  may  be  an  error;  but,  for  the  life  of  us,  we 
cannot  discern,  in  this  ingenious  contrivance,  any- 
thing beyond  a  tendency  to  raise  the  wages  of  the 
workman  at  the  expense  of  the  master.  But  this 
could  be  easily  done  without  the  contrivance,  sup- 


i 


THE  RICH  AND  THE  POOR.  59 

posing  the  capitalist  to  be  brought  into  the  humour 
required.*  View  it  on  which  side  you  will,  however, 
it  involves  an  interference  with  the  laws  that  regulate 
the  proportion  which  profits  and  Avages  shall  bear  to 
each  other,  where  industry  is  free.  And  be  it  added, 
that,  its  adoption  being  confessedly  optional,  it  would 
occasion  endless  variety  in  the  rates  of  profit,  tending 
to  dislocate  the  scale  of  prices — introducing  a  con- 
fusion into  the  economy  of  manufacturing  life  which 
might  prove  eminently  disastrous  to  the  whole  com- 
munity. The  further  effect  of  forcing  up  wages  (and 
the  plan  is  nothing  else)  would  simply  be  to  discourage 
capital  from  being  set  to  work.  On  the  ratio  in  which 
profits  can  be  extracted  from  mill  labour  hinges  our 
chance  of  holdino;  our  own  in  the  markets  of  the 
world.  Raise  our  rate  of  wages  (the  population 
continuing  to  increase,  and  to  press  upon  profits  as 
paupers),  and  you  paralyse  the  power  of  competing 
with  other  nations.  The  dire  necessity  we  labour 
under  of  keeping  the  increase  of  capital  a-head  of  the 
increase  of  population,  closes  the  door  upon  purely 
present  humane  considerations.  This  is  a  sad  truth, 
but  it  had  best  be  told.  Your  capital  will  flow  out  of 
the  country  if  you  increase  the  cost  of  production  by 
raising  wages.  Of  course,  if  bread  be  cheapened, 
wages  will  virtually  rise  a  trifle  without  deranging  the 
rate  of  profit.  Yet  this  alleviation  cannot  endure 
long.  Fresh  discoveries  annually  supersede  human 
arms  in  mill  macldnery,  and  the  excess  in  the  supply 

*  The  incapacity  of  the  workpeople  to  meet  the  reverses  incident  to 
commercial  existence,  would  form  an  insuperable  obstacle  to  such  a  co- 
partnery. It  is  only  a  capitalist  who  can  await  the  return  of  a  profitable 
season ;  the  workman  must  subsist  himself  in  the  meantime,  since  there 
are  no  profits  on  the  concern.     But  subsist  on  what  ? 


GO  THE  RICH  AND  THE  POOR. 

of  live  labour  will  have  to  be  provided  for  by  a  tax 
(or  poor-rate),  which  tax,  of  course,  falls  upon 
profits  and  rent,  and  by  so  much  lessens  the  return 
upon  the  capital  of  the  country.  A  clever  French 
writer  expresses  himself  on  this  contingency  as 
follows : — 

"  Ce  serait  pour  la  nation  Anglaise  un  immense  malheur,  si  cet 
interdt,  au  lieu  d'augmenter,  diminuait,  et  elle  en  est  veritablement 
menacee.  Mais  ce  qui  doit,  plus  que  toute  autre  chose,  exciter  la 
sollicitude  du  gouvernement  Anglais,  c'est  la  situation  de  la  classe 
industrielle,  qui  forme  une  partie  si  forte  et  si  energique  de  la  nation. 
II  n'est  pas  de  grande  ville  en  Angleterre  oil  cette  classe  si  laborieuse 
et  si  pauvre  n'inspire  une  piti6  profonde,"  &.c.  &c, — Sev.  des  Deux 
Mondes,  pour  Fevrier,  1842,  p.  675. 

No  conclusion,  it  would  seem,  can  rest  upon  sounder 
premises  than  this  to  which  the  Avriter  in  "  La  Revue 
des  Deux  Mondes"  has  arrived.  The  main  instrument 
through  which  the  deplorable  evils  attending  the 
spread  of  pauperism  may  be  staved  oiF,  consists  in  the 
steady  increase  of  the  capital  of  the  nation.  By  means 
of  a  continual  accumulation  of  capital,  the  sore  may, 
perhaps,  be  kept  at  its  present  level.  The  same 
proportions  which  now  pervade  the  shares  of  the 
respective  classes,  may  be  preserved.  AYe  shall  con- 
tinue to  have  a  layer  of  want,  disease,  and  vice  at  the 
bottom  (and  that  a  pretty  thick  one,  alas  !),  a  larger 
stratum  above,  of  thriving  industry;  with,  lastly,  a 
thin  top  vein  of  wealthy  capitalists,  including  the 
enjoy ers  of  "  rent."  This  appears  to  be  the  best 
condition  we  can  hope  to  realize,  supposing  popula- 
tion to  proceed  at  its  present  pace.  That  charity, 
however  extended,  hardly  makes  any  impression  upon 
the  evil  it  is  engaged  upon  alleviating,  we  have,  in 
this    generous    land    at    least,    ample   proof.     By   a 


THE  RICH  AND  THE  POOR.  61 

compulsory  interference  with  the  laws  of  distribution 
— in  other  Avords,  taxing  the  rich  for  the  enjoyment 
of  the  poor,  or  forcing  up  wages  and  lowering  profits 
of  trade,  by  way  of  diminishing  the  inequality  of 
conditions;  or  by  compelling  capitalists  to  employ 
their  fortune  in  augmenting  the  production  of  food 
(whether  profitably  or  unprofitably,  no  matter),  or 
by  forcing  persons  having  capital  to  employ  more 
labour  than  is  conveniently  needed,  or,  by  the  fusion 
of  "  master"  and  "  man,"  to  stimulate  an  increased 
production — by  none  of  these  violent  experiments  and 
expedients  should  we  advance  nearer  to  the  desired 
object,  whilst  we  should  be  storing  up  still  more 
intractable  difiiculties  for  our  successors.  All  the 
remedial  suggestions  we  have  heard  (with  the  excep- 
tion of  emigration),  may  be  resolved,  ultimately,  into 
an  interference  with  the  law  of  property,  more  or  less 
plausibly  veiled ;  and  the  modern  phrase  of  "  /^  droit 
de  travaii^^  would  appear  to  have  been  invented  to 
disguise,  for  a  season,  what  must  presently  come  to  be 
recognised  as  an  attack  upon  that  principle.  Such, 
therefore,  as  desire  to  uphold  and  defend  that  principle, 
our  "  ark  of  the  covenant,"  as  it  were,  will  do  well  to 
study  the  insidious  artifices  by  which  it  is,  in  these 
days,  imperilled.  "  Le  droit  de  travaiV^  is  among  the 
most  formidable  of  them,  and  one  which,  if  not  grappled 
with  in  time,  may  possibly  come  to  serve,  as  the  wooden 
horse  of  the  Greeks  served  at  Troy,  to  introduce  the 
besiegers  into  the  very  citadel  of  the  economic  and 
social  structure  of  Europe. 

Anything  which  sounds  like  a  remedy  will  always 
be  caught  at  by  the  mass  of  mankind,  if  it  but  relieve 
them  from  the  task  of  probing  the   evil  to  the  core. 


62  TUE    RICH    AND    THE    TOOR. 

The  dread  we  entertain  of  being  forced  to  confess 
that  mankind  multiply  inconveniently  fast,  drives 
us  to  employ  the  most  untenable  arguments  and  the 
shallowest  devices.  One  of  these  is  to  affirm,  "  that 
the  land  of  Great  Britain  ought  to  be  made  to  produce 
a  vast  deal  more  food  than  it  does."  "  If  the  soil  were 
adequately  cultivated,"  say  they,  "we  should  see  all  the 
labouring  people  employed,  and  every  one  would  have 
enough  to  eat  out  of  the  abundance."  This  is  so 
attractive  a  nostrum,  that  it  is  worth  while  to  com- 
municate a  mode  of  dealing  with  it  which  we  have 
employed  with  tolerable  success.  We  simply  put  the 
question — "  Do  you  mean,  that  the  increased  food 
should  be  produced  at  a  profit,  or  at  a  loss  ?"  In  every 
case,  the  projector  has  seized  the  drift  of  our  interro- 
gatory reply,  and  been  dumb.  The  same  man  would 
hardly  sanction  the  Government  in  taking  money 
from  "  Farmer  Drill,"  sending  it  to  New  York,  and 
exchanging  it  for  meal,  to  be  distributed  gratis,  in 
due  season,  to  the  English  poor ;  yet  it  comes  to  much 
the  same  thmg  as  compelling  him  to  produce  corn  at 
home  at  a  loss.  If  produced  at  a  profit,  he  will  need 
no  compulsion. 

The  institution  of  the  Poor  Law,  providing  as 
it  does  against  the  necessity  of  any  one  individual 
starving  for  want  of  food  and  shelter,  is,  we  think, 
sufficient  to  exculpate  the  English  nation  from  the 
imputation  of  indifference  to  the  claims  of  a  sound 
humanity.  M.  Faucher  lays  it  down  that  the  State 
has  no  business  to  interdict  the  practice  of  raendicanc}'-, 
unless  it  provide  legal  means  of  relief  to  the  needy. 
Differing  from  him  as  we  do  upon  the  principle,  we 
would  nevertheless  observe  that  this  is  precisely  what 


THE    RICH   AND    THE    POOR.  63 

the  Eno-lish  o-overnment  does.  No  one  need  die  of 
hunger  in  England.  But  he  who  would  eat  the  bread 
of  others  must  eat  it  in  the  workhouse ;  and  the  State 
does  well  to  reduce  the  cost  of  furnishing  food  and 
shelter  to  its  lowest  form.  The  sensitive  but  short- 
sighted advocates  of  a  more  generous  provision  ought 
to  reserve  a  portion  of  sympathy  for  those  who  are 
taxed  to  furnish  the  subsistence  of  the  indio^ent,  amono; 
whom  are  the  industrious  and  frugal  peasants  of  the 
cottage  class,  as  well  as  every  possessor  of  a  mansion. 

But  there  are  agencies  at  work,  having  a  contrary 
tendency,  and  of  which  we  would  say  a  passing  word. 
The  phases  of  misery  in  which  the  effects  of  over- 
population reveal  themselves  in  the  present  day,  are 
so  various  as  to  have  actually  engendered  a  literature 
of  their  own  !  A  class  of  writers  have  betaken  them- 
selves to  the  composition  of  heart-rending  fictions,  bear- 
ino;  a  resemblance  with  certain  forms  of  life  amons:  our 
lower  classes,  and  they  have  succeeded,  to  a  certain 
extent,  in  inspiring  every  eater  of  daily  dinners  with 
something  like  a  sentiment  of  shame  and  self-reproach. 
Where  this  feelino-  fructifies  into  almsgivino-  all  that 
ensues  is  a  diminution  of  the  operation  of  the  "  positive 
check"  for  the  moment;  a  fraction  of  privation  is 
absorbed,  and  the  consequences  of  a  great  natural  law- 
interrupted  for  a  brief  season.  But  the  law  resumes 
its  march,  and  the  weeping  reader  of  Mrs.  Norton's, 
"  Boz's,"  Hood's,  and  other  tragical  works,  must  either 
sacrifice  more  of  his  own  substance,  or  let  it  march. 
We  cannot  too  strenuously  insist  on  the  fact  that  every 
complaint  uttered  on  behalf  of  the  poor  and  needy, 
against  the  possessors  of  property,  as  such,  is  at 
variance  with  the  recognised  fundamental  principles 


64  THE   RICH    AND    THE    POOR. 

of  civilized  society,  which  rule  that  the  lawful  pos- 
sessor of  property  shall  enjoy  it,  as  far  as  that  enjoy- 
ment does  not  interfere  with  the  interests  of  others. 
It  is  time,  indeed,  that  we  understood  what  this 
modern  cry  of  reproach  means.  If  we  are  never  to 
be  unmolested  in  the  use  of  our  own  property  (great 
or  small,  as  the  case  may  be)  so  long  as  poverty  is 
prevalent  in  the  land,  let  the  humanity-preachers  say 
so,  and  we  shall  know  how  to  deal  with  the  demand. 
We  have  always  presumed  that  one  of  the  privileges 
belonging  to  the  rich  and  elevated  classes  is  that  of 
delegating  to  others  the  function  of  dispensing  their 
alms,  and  that,  when  a  liberal  contribution  to  the 
solace  and  relief  of  the  poor  had  been  made,  the 
donor  might  be  permitted  to  frame  his  own  life  after 
his  own  tastes.  But  the  charity- crusaders  would 
have  it  otherwise.  They  positively  erect  it  into  an 
accusation  against  a  nation,  that  any  one  man  should 
be  reclining  on  a  soft  chair,  digesting  his  mutton  and 
claret  in  a  placid  state  of  mind,  whilst  "  thousands  of 
shivering  wretches  are  starving  in  cellars  and  garrets." 
This  sort  of  appeal  to  the  vulgarest  of  all  fallacies 
succeeds  in  alarming  many  kind  and  timid  persons ; 
and  they  accordingly,  when  attacked  by  the  alms- 
levier  (who  puts  this  phrase  to  their  heads  with  as 
much  effect  as  if  it  were  a  pistol),  "  stand  and  deliver" 
their  money. 

The  fundamental  error  on  which  this  weakness 
rests,  lies  in  believing  that  all  this  poverty  is  the 
result  of  blameable  conduct  in  the  existing  gene- 
ration of  rich  men.  It  is,  on  the  contrary,  the  con- 
sequence of  a  natural  and  universal  law — viz.,  the 
predominance  of  present  over  distant  motives  in  man, 


THE  RICH  AND  THE  POOR.  65 

— and  is  no  more  the  fault  of  the  rich  of  this  period 
than  of  foregone  generations  of  rich.  Poverty,  in  all  its 
disastrous  aspects,  is,  and  has  always  been,  exhibited 
in  every  country  on  tlie  face  of  the  earth ;  and  the 
pen  of  tlie  pauper's  novelist  would  find  ample  subject- 
matter  for  harrowing  descriptions  even  in  the  most 
thriving  cities,  such  as  Hamburg  and  Berne ;  or  even 
in  Boston,  in  the  least  pauperized  country  in  the 
world.  It  is  one  among  many  inevitable  consequences 
of  human  imperfection  and  human  necessities,  and  can 
only  be  eradicated,  if  at  all,  by  a  new  course  of  pro- 
vident and  self-denying  conduct  on  the  part  of  our 
working  people.  For  to  pretend  that  one  class  of 
society  could,  and  ought,  by  unceasing  devotion  to 
the  task  of  making  the  rest  of  the  community  prudent, 
careful,  self-controlling,  and  \-irtuous-minded,  to 
achieve  the  extinction  of  the  faulty  and  vicious  ten- 
dencies of  our  common  nature,  were  to  outrun  the 
visions  of  Plato  by  many  degrees.  Man,  individually, 
follows  his  instincts  towards  pleasure  of  various  kinds, 
Avith  more  or  less  regard  to  distant  consequences. 
Classes  of  men  do  the  same,  and  pay,  like  individuals, 
the  penalty  of  their  improvidence.  Governments  have 
aimed  at  interposition ;  witness  Bavaria  and  Prussia, 
and,  we  believe,  Austria,  wdiere  it  is  rendered  difficult 
for  persons  in  indigent  circumstances  to  get  married, 
and  where,  consequently,  paupers  are  less  numerous 
than  with  us.  But  the  notions  of  English  liberty 
which  are  rooted  in  the  national  mind  forbid  our 
having  recourse  to  such  precautionary  regulations, 
and  we  are  thus  forced  to  leave  the  evil  to  the 
operation  of  natural  laws,  of  which  the  "positive 
check,"  or  death  from  poverty,  is  one. 

F 


66  THE  men  and  the  poor. 

The  conclusions  to  which  a  sober  contemplation  of 
the  subject  leads  us  are,  first,  that  the  evils  of  wide- 
spread poverty,  privation,  and  physical  deterioration, 
are  not  to  be  annulled  by  either  compulsory  govern- 
ment action  or  private  benevolence;  and  next,  that 
the  remedy,  if  any  such  may  be  hoped  for,  must  be 
sought  by  enlightening  the  lower  classes  themselves 
upon  the  real  principles  which  aifect  the  condition  of 
individuals  in  civilized  communities.  A  respect  for 
property  is  a  strong  and  admirable  element  in  the 
English  character,  and  nothing  but  rampant  hunger 
can  overcome  it  with  the  large  majority  of  our  people. 
It  is  the  especial  duty  of  the  higher  classes  to  cultivate 
this  sentiment  in  their  poor  dependents;  whilst,  on 
the  other  hand,  policy,  no  less  than  humane  consi- 
derations, dictates  large  sacrifices  at  critical  periods 
of  scarcity  or  want  of  emplo3-ment,  in  the  shape  of 
gifts,  by  the  rich,  in  order  to  avoid  the  risk  of  the  law 
being  violated.  But  the  fewer  of  these  efforts  that 
are  made,  the  longer  will  capital  keep  ahead  of  the 
pressure  of  population. 

How  far  a  national  conscience  ought  to  be  at  rest 
under  a  state  of  things  such  as  M.  Faucher  exhibits, 
must,  after  all,  depend  upon  the  degree  in  which  the 
evil  is  susceptible  of  cure,  and  on  the  amount  of  efforts 
made  by  society  to  apply  the  cure.  That  prodigious 
exertions  are  made  by  the  humane  of  all  ranks  in  this 
country — by  alms,  by  legal  provision  for  the  destitute, 
and  by  protective  laws — to  i-edeem  their  suffering 
brethren,  is  matter  of  familiar  notoriety ;  yet  the  sore 
does  not  disappear;  nay,  it  even  seems  to  extend  its 
baleful  ravages. 

We  have  already  said  that,  as  a  feature  of  social 


THE    RICH    AND    THE    POOR.  67 

intercourse,  charity  possesses  a  claim  to  respect; 
serving,  as  it  does,  to  animate  and  expand  the  love 
of  doino;  orood  in  the  rich :  the  value  of  which  senti- 
ment  it  were  folly  to  dispute.  But,  taking  a  long- 
sighted view  of  the  certain  tendencies  of  actual  causes 
in  operation,  we  must  earnestly  and  emphatically 
insist  upon  the  unpalatable  proposition,  that  alms- 
giving does  not  act  as  a  remedy  either  against  pau- 
perism or  against  the  degradation  of  our  manufac- 
turing population ;  nor,  on  the  other  hand,  in  a  free 
country,  can  a  Legislature  step  in  between  a  starving 
man  and  his  bread,  be  it  gained  by  never  so  large  a 
sacrifice  of  toil,  comfort,  and  self-respect,  provided  he 
offend  no  law  in  so  doing.*     It  is  for  M.  Faucherf  and 

*  A  lesson  on  a  small  scale  has  been  afforded  us — in  the  attempts 
of  the  British  Parliament  to  protect  the  young  against  undue  toil— 
of  the  futility  of  opposing  the  exchange  of  human  labour  for  bread,  if 
offered. 

The  State,  aiming  at  the  mitigation  of  the  evil  of  over  labour, 
bearing  upon  the  young,  or  those  under  eighteen  years  of  age, 
framed  enactments  with  this  view  long  since,  which  have  for  some 
years  been  in  operation.  But  the  instincts  of  self-preservation  are 
stronger  than  the  statutes  of  the  realm,  and  we  need  go  no  farther 
than  the  pages  of  M.  Faucher  to  find  ample  details  concerning  the 
way  in  which  the  benevolent  intentions  of  the  Legislature  are  frus- 
trated, by  collusion  between  greedy  masters  and  needy  workpeople.f 
Their  effect  is  accordingly  but  partial  and  incomplete,  though  not 
wholly  nugatory. 

Kemain  yet,  moral  teaching,  emigration,  limitation  of  births.  With 
regard  to  the  first,  it  has  always  struck  us  that  to  attempt  to  raise  the 
moral  tone  of  the  poor  factory  helots,  without  furnishing  the  physical 
means  of  adjusting  their  habits  to  it,  was  perfectly  fruitless.  To 
inspire  the  wretched  inhabitant  of  a  Manchester  cellar  with  a  craving 
for  decency  of  apparel,  for  a  cleanly  abode,  or  for  the  use  of  books,  is  to 
augment  by  so  much  his  sense  of  privation  and  helplessness.  We  have 
in  vain  listened  for  some  one  to  tell  the  working  classes  that  the  secret 
of  ameliorating  their  condition  is  to  limit  their  numbers.  i!^obody  will 
"  bell  the  cat." 

t  See  tome  ii.  p.  102,  ei  seq. 

F    2 


68  THE    RICH    AND    THE    POOR. 

his  disciples  to  point  out  a  method  by  which  bread 
shall  be  earned  and  eaten,  without  such  conditions, 
by  the  mass  of  the  labouring  manufacturers;  the 
inviolability  of  property  always  remaining  sacred  and 
unquestioned,  notwithstanding.  Failing  in  this,  M. 
Faucher  will  do  well  to  temper  his  animadversions  on 
the  English  "social  plague-spot"  by  a  juster  appre- 
ciation of  our  benevolent  struggles  to  bring  about  its 
amendment,  in  time  past,  time  present,  and  to  come. 

We  venture  to  add,  in  conclusion,  a  few  words  upon 
the  much  canvassed  subject  of  emigration.  It  can 
hardly  be  called  in  question,  we  think,  that  the  sending 
away  of  half-a-million  of  our  people  must  relieve  the 
pressure  upon  our  social  system;  and  therefore,  as 
long  as  we  are  rich  enough  to  buy  out  a  portion  of  our 
population,  annual  depletion  may  prove  a  sensible 
benefit.  But  let  no  one  persuade  himself  that  those 
left  heJmicl  are  the  gainers.  They  lose  the  best  young 
blood  of  the  country,  and  with  it  large  masses  of 
capital;  they  lose  the  eiFective  labourer,  and  the 
capital  that  might  set  him  to  work.  The  emigrant 
profits,  no  doubt,  but  he  alone.  Those  who  remain 
will  probably  discover  that  the  void  is  speedily  filled 
up,  and  that  the  State  must  continue  to  expend  large 
sums  in  order  to  keep  the  home  population  at  its 
altered  level.  The  secondary  advantage,  of  setting 
up  distant  markets  for  our  home  produce,  sounds 
j)lausibly  enough;  but  in  the  actual  state  of  the 
commercial  world,  it  is  hardly  possible  to  calculate 
upon  any  p)ermanent  demand  from  the  dweller  at  the 
Antipodes.  So  many  casual  changes  in  the  laws  of 
production  and  conveyance  now  hang  over  the 
relations     of    diiFereiit    countries,    that     the    wisest 


THE  RICH  AND  THE  POOR  69 

prophets  may  easily  be  proved  short-sighted  by  a 
few  years'  experience.  Still,  we  are  not  among  the 
inuTiber  of  those  who  deprecate  experiments  in 
emigration ;  we  would  have  then  tried  in  earnest,  and 
on  a  vast  scale.  It  is  as  good  an  employment  of  the 
surplus  revenue  of  the  nations  as  many  others,  and 
inust  benefit  those  who  leave  the  mother-country, 
whatever  disappointment  may  result  to  those  who 
remain  behind. 


SUPPLEMENTAL  REMARKS,   1862. 


The  course  which  public  opinion  has  followed  since  this  essay- 
was  printed,  can  scarcely  be  said  to  have  changed  its  character 
during  the  interval — now  twelve  years.  To  expect,  there- 
fore, that  my  views  will  meet  with  any  more  favour — I  ought 
to  say  with  any  less  disfavour — at  the  present  day,  Avould  be 
vain.  It  seems  to  me,  on  the  contrary,  that  the  English 
people  become  more  and  more  determined  to  disregard  the 
operation  of  general  laws,  and  to  assume  that,  so  long  as  the 
wealth  of  the  country  goes  on  augmenting,  it  matters  little 
how  rapidly  the  demands  of  indigence  and  the  necessities  of 
the  afflicted  multiply  upon  us.*  The  young  men  of  the 
rural  districts  are,  at  the  present  time,  being  gradually 
drawn  away  from  farm  work,  by  the  temptation  afforded  by 
higher-paid  employments,  such  as  the  railways,  the  police 
force,  the  Government  works,  the  arsenals,  the  army,  domestic 
service,  the  constabulary,  the  "  navvy"  line,  and  the  like.  All 
these  modes  of  employing  working  hands,  being  more  remu- 
nerative, absorb  a  considerable  amount  of  able-bodied  men. 
The  farmers,  accordingly,  complain  of  an  insufficient  supply 
of  husbandry  labourers,  and  of  being  compelled  to  pay  higher 
wages  to  those  whose  services  they  do  obtain. 

If  such  increased  "  wage"  led  to  permanent  benefit,  by 
raising  the  standard  of  comfort  in  this  class,  and  improving 
their  way  of  living,  it  would  be  a  welcome  sign.      But  the 

*  The  proportion  in  which  the  amount  of  Pauperism  now  stands  to 
the  population  in  England,  according  to  returns  quoted  in  the  Times 
newspaper  of  July  18th,  1862,  is  "  one  in  21  of  the  population,  or  48 
per  cent.,  showing  an  increase  of  6  per  cent,  over  that  of  1861." 


SUPPLEMENTAL    rtEMAUKS.  71 

fcact  is,  tliat  the  price  of  every  one  of  the  articles  required  for 
the  family  of  a  poor  working  man  has  risen  to  a  level  ahove 
his  means.  Bread,  it  is  true,  continues  at  a  moderate  price, 
because  it  is  easy  to  obtain  bread  stuffs  for  our  market  from 
foreign  countries.  But  go  one  step  farther:  ask  the  village 
shopkeeper  what  is  now  the  value  of  bacon,  cheese,  butter, 
candles,  cocoa.  He  will  tell  you  that  they  have  each  risen 
SO  per  cent,  within  the  last  seven  or  eight  years.  Ask  the 
butcher,  and  he  will  reply  that  mutton  has  advanced  from 
6i.  and  Id.  to  %cl.  and  lOc?.  per  pound. 

Thus  it  is  evident  that  the  slight  rise  which  has  taken 
place  iu  agricultural  wages  is  insufficient  to  balance  the  in- 
crease in  the  value  of  commodities.  Again,  the  excessive 
anxiety  of  benevolent  persons  to  keep  village  boys  at  school 
beyond  the  age  at  which  their  labour  becomes  available,  tends 
to  the  disiidvantage  of  their  parents.  Complaints  are  made, 
by  education  commissioners  and  others,  that  parents  are 
unwilling  to  keep  their  boys  at  school  beyond  the  age  of  ten 
and  eleven  years  (just  when,  as  they  affirm,  their  education  is 
taking  a  higher  character),  seeing  that  "  Billy"  or  "Jemmy" 
ouoht  to  beo^in  to  earn  his  own  livins;.  Yet  what  can  be  more 
unreasonable  than  to  expect  a  labouring  man,  who  has,  by 
the  sweat  of  his  brow,  won  the  bread  for  the  infant  daring 
eight  or  nine  long  years,  to  forego  the  relief  which  his 
boy's  labour  might  bring  to  the  cottage  purse  !  Moreover,  a 
lad  of  eleven  to  thirteen,  who  has  never  been  "  put  to  work," 
but  who  has  filled  up  his  playhours  with  nothing  harder  than 
a  game  of  cricket,  is  indisposed  to  become  a  farm  servant. 
He  is  unused  to  bear  hardships,  to  sit  shivering  under  a 
hedge  "  crow-keeping,"  to  walk  to  work  through  the  snow, 
to  travel  home  alone  after  dark,  to  get  wet  through,  and,  in 
short,  shrinks  from  the  rough  apprenticeship  inseparable  from 
husbandry  life. 

Many  kind-hearted  people,  when  they  come  to  know  what 
the  life  of  a  farm  boy  is,  rather  rejoice  than  not  that  "  poor 
little  Bobby"  should  avoid  its  hardships,  and  should,  instead, 
get  a  snug  berth  in  the  "  Eagle  Brewery  Company's"  employ, 


72  SUPPLEMENTAL   REMAKKS. 

or  get  work  in  making  cartridges,  for  the  manufacturer  of  those 
articles.  One  gentle,  fair  philanthropist  of  my  acquaintance, 
commiserating  the  ennui  of  a  cow-keeping  boy  in  my  parish, 
kindly  took  him  "a  story-book"  to  relieve  the  weight  of  it. 
Of  course  the  "  Nanny  Cow"  broke  through  the  neighbour's 
hedge  into  the  clover,  for  want  of  being  watched.  But  to  be 
serious.  This  interposition  of  the  rich  in  behalf  of  the 
youthful  members  of  the  population  is,  to  call  it  by  its  right 
name,  an  attempt  to  prevent  the  play  of  a  general  social 
principle  :  and  that,  by  applying  their  money  and  their  per- 
sonal influence  towards  the  unsettling  of  the  natural  relations 
between  demand  and  supply.  In  other  words,  educating  the 
children  in  such  fashion  as  shall  render  them  unfitted  for 
those  employments  in  which  their  fathers  and  mothers  before 
them  earned  their  living ;  causing  humble  labour  to  be 
regarded  with  aversion,  and  diminishing  the  supply  of  such 
labour  to  what  I  believe  to  be  an  inconvenient  extent. 

The  excuse  for  all  this  interference  with  the  distribution  of 
employment,  is,  ever,  that  it  leads  to  a  desire  on  the  jDart  of 
the  boy  or  girl,  as  it  maybe,  to  better  their  condition.  Now, 
it  may  be  questioned  whether  this  ardour,  to  be  shown  in  the 
struggle  to  rise  in  the  scale,  be  altogether  a  wholesome  feel- 
ing to  inculcate.  Beneficial  to  certam  well-endowed  indivi- 
duals it  certainly  has  been,  and  always  will  be  ;  but  whether 
it  be  a  desirable  thing  to  cultivate,  in  every  humble  breast, 
a  dissatisfaction  with  their  actual  condition :  to  inspire  an 
ordinary  rustic  with  a  restless  longing  for  change,  for  the 
excitement  of  town  life,  for  gain,  and  for  the  means  of  in- 
dulging his  appetites,  does,  in  my  view,  admit  of  grave 
doubts.  Indeed,  whilst  the  lessons  imparted  by  the  Scripture 
readings  and  the  catechisms  of  the  Church,  enjoin  humility 
and  contentment  under  the  dispensations  of  Providejice,  the 
education  enthusiasts  would  fain  teach  that,  not  to  exert  the 
faculties  we  possess  to  "  get  on  in  the  world,"  is  to  be  foolish 
and  contemptible. 

To  return  to  the  point  where  I  note  the  causes  which  seem 
to  be  conducing   to    the    increased   burthen  of   pauperism. 


SUPPLEMENTAL   REMARKS.  73 

The  extreme  dearness  of  provisions  weiglis  down  the  cottager. 
The  boys  eat,  and  earn  nothing.  The  girls  do  the  same. 
The  young  men  marry  early  to  obtain  a  fireside  (no  longer 
afforded,  as  heretofore,  under  their  employer's  roof),  and  have 
numerous  families.  For  the  summer  semestre  all  goes  well 
enough  ;  but  winter  brings  slackened  employment,  savings 
are  rarely  forthcoming,  nay,  are  almost  impossible.  The  rich 
step  in  with  charitable  aid,  but  cannot  wholly  mitigate  the 
pressure  of  want,  and  the  parish  does  the  rest.  Thus  the 
rich,  in  the  first  place,  intercept  the  action  of  the  natural 
law,  by  which  I  mean  the  efforts  of  the  children  to  assist  in 
maintaining  the  family,  by  insisting  on  their  staying  at  school. 
Next,  the  boys,  for  the  reasons  given  above,  quit  the  district, 
thinning  the  parish  of  local  "  bread-winners ;"  sick  and  infirm 
women  press  upon  their  adult  male  kindred  at  home.  Need 
outstrips  the  means  of  relief,  and  hunger  gradually  assumes 
the  lone  of  importunity.  The  parish  finally  supports  those 
who  cannot  support  themselves,  and  "the  union"  becomes 
crowded  with  recipients  of  public  bounty.  This  is  the  circle 
in  which  English  rural  affairs  commonly  revolve.  That  it  is 
far  from  a  healthy  circle  will  not  be  contested.  The  point 
to  be  considered  is,  how  far  the  evil  of  pauperism  is  referable 
to  the  faults  of  the  poor,  and  how  far  to  the  mischievous 
action  of  the  rich. 

In  a  country  so  advanced  in  artificial  modes  of  living  as 
England  is,  nothing  is  more  difficult  than  to  specify  and 
follow  out  the  effects  of  any  one  cause  in  bringing  about  social 
changes.  Nevertheless  I  must  select  a  feature  in  our  domestic 
history,  to  which  it  seems  to  me  fair  to  attribute  a  sensible  in- 
fluence over  the  well-being  of  our  rural  population.  I  mean 
the  enormous  increase  in  the  consumption  of  meat  in  England, 
consequent  upon  the  introduction  of  the  "  Norfolk  system." 
Formerly  perhaps  even  within  the  memory  of  man — fresh 
meat  in  winter  was  a  luxury  confiutd  to  the  wealthy  classes. 
In  the  north  of  England,  assuredly,  salted  legs  of  mutton 
were  as  common  as  salted  pork.  There  being  no  food  to  give 
animals  in  winter  except  hay  and  corn,  horses  and  cows  could 


74  SUPPLEMENTAL  REMARKS. 

alone  be  supported  during  this  season.  The  culture  of  root 
crops,  however,  speedily  led  to  the  multiplication  of  sheep 
and  oxen  for  food,  and  the  prodigious  prosperity  of  our  manu- 
facturing class  furnishing  an  almost  boundless  demand  for 
meat,  flocks  and  herds  were  extensively  reared,  to  the  corre- 
sponding profit  of  the  landowners.  Labour,  during  the 
period  of  this  transition,  being  in  demand,  wages  rose,  and 
with  them  the  desire  for  more  succulent  aliments,  and 
not  only  the  factory  operative,  but  the  English  rustic,  came 
to  regard  animal  food  as  a  necessary  of  life  all  the  year  round. 
To  meet  the  increased  cost  of  human  labour,  machinery  was 
invented.  An  augmented  rate  of  production  followed,  to  be 
balanced  by  an  augmented  rate  of  consumption.  Presently 
the  demand  came  to  be  so  excessive  that  we  were  forced  to 
import  meat ;  that  is  to  say,  live  cattle,  calves,  and  sheep, 
from  the  Dutch  and  the  Danes.  The  average  amount  of  which, 
I  believe,  was  in  1861,  during  the  navigable  season,  some- 
where about  3000  head  per  week  by  the  river  Thames  alone. 

That  we  could  no  longer  produce  meat  sufficient  for  own 
own  consumption,  became  apparent.  But  the  habit,  acquired 
at  a  period  when  the  population  had  not  reached  the  amount 
we  now  possess,  of  living  on  meat,  remained  in  force  ;  and 
since  the  expense  of  rearing  animals  for  food~  naturally  rose 
with  the  demand  (because  inferior  land  had  to  be  cultivated 
in  order  to  keep  pace  with  it),  the  price  of  meat,  together 
with  that  of  cheese  and  butter,  which  must  equally  be  counted 
as  animal  product,  has  reached  a  point  which,  as  I  have  ob- 
served, all  but  forbids  its  purchase  by  the  cottager.  And  as 
to  bacon,  it  is  positively  at  a  fabulous  figure.  The  vast 
amount  of  milk,  too,  consumed  by  the  populous  towns  now-a- 
days,  by  so  much  lessens  the  quantity  available  for  cheese- 
making,  whilst  the  buttermilk  is  lost  to  the  "  swill-tub,"  and 
so  renders  pig-feeding  less  and  less  general. 

I  have  shown  that  the  habit  of  living  upon  animal  food,  for 
some  5'ears  past  widely  diffused,  is  now  checked,  by  the  growing 
difficulty  of  procuring  it  at  a  reasonable  price.  Butter  and 
cheese  also  are  well  nigh  out  of  reach  for  the  cottager,  and  he 


SUiTLEMENTAL    REMARKS.  75 

is  obliged  to  depend  upon  his  own  pig,  when  lucky  enough  to 
possess  one,  for  his  "  modicum"  of  bacon.  But  this  is  scanty 
measure  for  the  ploughman  or  reaper.  His  beer,  too,  is 
wretched  stuff.  The  beer-shops  and  inns  are  mostly  owned 
by  brewers,  who  force  the  tenants  to  vend  their  respective 
mixtures.  The  labourer  must  drink  this,  or  go  without,  unless 
his  wife  is  a  "  capable  woman,"  and  will  brew  a  cask  at  home, 
now  and  then,  of  wholesome  liquor. 

Faihng  to  obtain  adequate  sustenance  in  the  articles  of 
meat,  cheese,  and  beer,  the  labouring  man  buys  "  dripping," 
to  season  his  bread  and  potatoes  withal,  or  the  offal  bits  at 
the  butchers  ;  and,  to  soothe  his  unsatisfied  cravings,  indulges 
in  tobacco,  even  in  fine  weather.  The  women  of  this  class 
commonly  drink  tea  at  their  meals,  and  I  fear,  occasionally, 
gin.  But  they  struggle  on  with  persevering  courage,  often  in 
a  way  to  excite  cordial  admiration  and  sympathy  from  a 
humane  observer. 

Kow,  it  may  be  asked,  how  it  comes  to  pass  that  the  poor 
man  can  get  so  little  meat  to  eat,  seeing  that  the  nation  is 
prosperous  and  Vv'ealthy,  the  capacity  of  the  land  to  produce 
food  strained  to  an  unprecedented  limit,  and  the  generosity 
of  the  rich  incontestable  ? 

The  answer  is  not  far  to  seek.  The  working  man  is  outbid 
by  the  classes  above  him. 

The  pay  given  to  the  higher  descriptions  of  labourers,  in- 
cluding that  of  the  factory  operatives,  is  larger  than  his,  and 
whilst  these  classes  compete  for  the  necessaries  of  life  with 
the  peasantry,  the  latter  are  distanced  in  the  race.  The 
immense  consumption  of  meat  by  all  English  families,  by 
the  army  and  navy,  and  public  establishments — eleemosy- 
nary, and  of  other  kinds — causes  the  price  to  range  above 
what  the  farm-labourers  can  afford  to  pay.* 

The  share,  then,   which   the  rich   have  borne    in  causing 

*  At  one  time  butter  was  largely  imported,  as  was  also  cheese,  from 
the  United  States.  But  I  have  been  informed  that,  for  several  years 
past,  our  Australian  colonies  have  proved  more  lucrative  markets,  and 
a  less  amount  of  such  commodities  is  sent  to  England. 


76  SUPPLEMENTAL   REMARKS. 

certain  privations  to  the  labourer,  is  this  :  they  have  caused 
such  a  rapid  increase  of  population,  by  the  skilful  application 
of  existing  capital  to  purposes  of  industrial  life,  and  they  so 
largely  remunerate  that  population  whose  aid  enables  the 
capitalist  to  enrich  himself,  that  the  number  of  buyers  at  last 
outruns  the  powers  of  the  producers,  and,  of  course,  he  who 
has  the  smallest  purchasing  power  must  give  way  before  the 
possessor  of  the  greater.  This  is  the  explanation  of  the  extra- 
vagant price  of  meat,  the  quantity  of  this  particular  product 
being  limited. 

The  rich  have  also  had  a  direct  share  in  causing  the  deterio- 
ration of  the  beer  sold  to  the  poor,  which,  coupled  with  the 
diminished  quality  of  their  food,  is,  I  fear,  bringing  about  a 
decline  in  the  physical  strength  of  the  working  people.  Owners 
of  aleliouses  have  been  but  too  ready  to  accept  brewers  as 
tenants,  or,  whenever  tempted  by  price,  as  purchasers  The 
results  are  obvious. 

So  far  forth  as  this  active  pursuit  of  wealth  has  affected, 
indirectly,  the  social  position  of  the  labourer,  I  conceive  the 
upper  classes  to  have  lessened  the  amount  of  comfort  enjoyed 
by  the  peasantry,  compared  with  that  possessed  by  them  in 
times  anterior  to  the  present,  and  this  in  spite  of  the  reduc- 
tion in  j^rice  of  coffee,  tea,  sugar,  and  spirits,  all  of  which  are 
but  secondary  objects  of  desire. 

But  no  working  man  does  live,  or  support  a  family,  on  his 
wages.  I  wish  he  did.  He  would  be  a  better  member  of 
society,  and  would  respect  himself  more.  The  real  fact  is 
that  he  subsists  partly  upon  his  earnings  and  partly  upon 
alms.  The  rich  make  up  in  charity  the  shortcomings  of  the 
farmer,  who,  as  a  general  rule,  will  never  pay  his  men  a 
farthing  more  than  what  he  can  persuade  them  to  work  for, 
whilst  the  exioencies  of  the  labourer's  condition  force  him 
to  accept  whatever  the  farmer  will  give. 

When  the  boys  have  been  prevented  from  helj^ing  out  the 
parental  earnings,  as  I  have  set  forth,  and  the  girls,  taught  to 
aim  at  "  something  better"  than  farm  service,  remain  on  his 
hands,  the  poor  man  finds  himself  scarely  able  to  "rub  along." 


SUPPLEMENTAL    REMARKS.  77 

Then,  to  be  sure,  the  rich  neighbours  bestow  charitable 
assistance  upon  him,  and,  in  one  form  or  another,  his  scanty 
means  are  eked  out.  So  that  our  farm  labourers  subsist,  as 
I  have  said,  upon  the  twofold  source  of  wages  and  charity. 
It  would  tend  to  raise  the  character  of  the  cottager  if  the 
aggregate  amount  were  received  in  the  shape  of  wages,  and  if 
he  were  taught  to  rely  on  his  own  conduct  for  keeping  clear 
of  debt.  However,  the  rich  amongst  us  prefer  dispensing 
their  bounty  in  the  shape  of  alms,  rather  than  in  the  mode 
calculated  to  engender  a  feeling  of  independence  among  their 
humble  neighbours.  And  this  I  count  as  another  of  the 
ways  in  which  the  poor  have  been  disadvantageously  used  by 
the  rich,  although  the  rich  have  not  designedly  done  them 
injury  ;  to  do  which  is  altogether  contrary  to  their  disposi- 
tion. Whatever  wrong  they  inflict,  I  believe  that  it  is  unin- 
tentionally done.  Their  worst  fault,  after  all,  is  the  neglecting 
to  improve  the  knowledge  of  their  peasantry  on  the  subject 
which  most  concerns  their  permanent  interests,  viz.,  the  true 
relations  between  capital  and  labour,  demand  and  supply. 

Those  relations  lie  at  the  bottom  of  all  civilized  societies ; 
and  although  they  are  frequently  disturbed,  by  the  agency  of 
various  artificial  causes,  nothing  can  permanently  destroy  or 
supersede  their  influence. 

In  my  history  of  the  hamlet  of  East  Burnham,  I  have  set 
forth  the  mischief  of  doing  too  little  for  the  improvement  of 
the  poor  by  the  lord  of  the  soil.  In  other  parts  of  England, 
perhaps  too  much  is  being  done.  The  true  way  to  assist 
humble  labouring  folk  is  to  help  them  to  help  thenLselves. 
After  attending  to  the  due  provision  of  weather-tight  dwell- 
ings, a  bit  of  garden,  and  a  schoolhouse,  to  which  their  children 
may  be  sent  (if  possible,  at  their  own  expense),  the  care  of 
the  rich  should  be  directed  to  the  inculcation  of  sound  prin- 
ciples of  social  economy,  including  the  habit  of  saving,  and 
depositing  those  "  savings"  at  interest. 

But,  before  all,  the  rich  should  emphatically  point  out  the 
advantages  of  restricting  the  numbers  of  the  poor.  Too  much 
encouragement  is  given,  in  England,  to  improvident  marriages 


78  SUPPLEMENTAL    REMARKS. 

among  the  working  people,  whereby  a  large  increase  of  the 
population  is  induced,  to  the  sensible  injury  of  the  class  at 
large.  Hence  the  efforts  to  relieve  itself  by  extensive  emigra- 
tion, a  remedy  of  which  it  is  impossible  to  deny  the  expediency, 
although  it  is  well  to  remark  that  each  individual  emigrant 
must  occasion  an  expenditure  varying  from  twenty  to  fifty 
pounds  sterling,  for  freight,  and  subsistence  during  the  passage. 
So  that,  whilst  we  get  rid  of  the  surplus  people,  we  also  get 
rid  of  money,  not  in  surplus. 

Whilst  touching  on  this  feature  of  our  present  condition,  I 
must  be  permitted  to  refer  to  an  opinion,  published  in  another 
country,  wherein  the  writer  pretends  to  discover,  in  the  im- 
prudence of  English  men  and  women,  a  source  of  wealth  and 
power  to  the  nation. 

M.  Maurice  Block,  writing  in  Le  Temps,  French  news- 
paper, in  January,  1862,  gives  a  statement,  compiled  from 
statistical  documents,  showing  the  annual  increase  of  popula- 
tion in  various  countries,  at  periods  comprised  between  1818 
and  1861,  as  follows  : — 

40  years.  In  England,  from  1821  to  1861  1625. 

36  years.  In  Prussia,       „      1822  to  1858  1440. 

36  years.  In  Russia,        „      1822  to  1858  1410. 

39  years.  In  Austria,      „      1818  to  1857  692. 

35  years.  In  France,       „      1826  to  1861  340. 

Now,  after  exhibiting  this  striking  comparison  between  the 
rate  of  increase  in  France  and  the  rate  of  increase  in  England, 
M.  Block  proceeds  to  lament  over  the  small  number  of  births 
in  his  own  country  : — 

"  It  is  matter  of  notoriety  (he  says)  that  among  town 
artizans,  young  men  are  accustomed  to  defer  their  marriage 
until  the  day  arrives  when  they  have  acquired  a  certain  posi- 
tion in  their  trade.  Once  married,  many  of  them  are  careful 
to  have  no  more  offspring  than  can  be  con)petently  provided 
for,  and  can  be  fairly  endowed  at  the  death  of  the  parents. 

"  This  habit  is  likewise  adopted  in  a  great  number  of  rural 
districts.  It  is  affirmed,  indeed,  that  in  several  of  our  depart- 
ments, the  peasantry  habitually  limit  their  families  to   two 


SUPPLEMENTAL    REMARKS.  79 

children  ;  and  since  all  of  these,  even,  do  not  reach  a  marriage- 
ahle  age,  an  absolute  diminution  of  our  numbers  would  take 
place,  if  it  were  not  that  some  couples  are  to  be  found,  who, 
relying  on  Providence,  and  on  their  own  industrious  efforts, 
bring  into  the  world  a  larger  number  than  the  generality. 

"  It  is  this  excessive  forethought  (continues  M.  Block)  which 
retards  our  numerical  progress."  .... 

Again,  "  If  France  does  not  possess  more  numerous 
colonies,  it  is  because  children  do  not  swarm  with  us,  as  they 
do  in  England  (ne  pullident  pas),  and  that,  consequently,  we 
possess  not  the  amount  of  over  population  requisite  to  set  up 
fresh  communities  !"  &c.  &c. 

Few  persons  can,  I  think,  fail  to  perceive,  in  the  almost 
ludicrous  lamentations  of  M.  Block,  the  source  of  the  difference 
between  the  condition  of  the  French  people,  taken  as  a  whole, 
and  that  of  the  English  people.  Those  to  whose  imaginations 
the  ideas  of  boundless  wealth  carry  unmixed  delight  and 
pride,  will  deem  the  English  form  of  existence  the  preferable 
one.  But  persons  of  a  really  philanthropic  turn  of  mind  will 
probably  regard  the  prudent,  independent  habits  of  the  French 
peasant  with  approving  sympathy.  Nay.  they  may  even  come 
to  regard  the  advantage  of  setting  up  distant  colonies  as 
dearly  purchased,  by  the  painful  sacrifices  involved  in  a  system 
of  inconsiderate,  improvident  multiplication  of  families, 
necessitating,  as  a  last  resource  against  want,  an  expatriation 
from  country,  coupled  with,  possibly,  a  life-long  separation 
from  home  and  friends. 


NOTICE 


OP  THE 


LIFE  OF  THOMAS  MOORE, 


Being  the  substance  of  an  Article  in  No.  CII.  of  the 
"  Edinburgh  Review." 


PREFACE. 


The  author  of  the  following  pages  has  deemed  it 
but  fair  to  herself  to  reproduce,  for  private  circula- 
tion, the  "  article"  such  as  she  intended  to  offer  it  to 
the  readers  of  the  Edinhurgh  Review. 

The  author  thought  (and  still  thinks)  that  the 
character  of  the  late  Thomas  Moore  had  received 
somewhat  hard  measure  at  the  hands  of  contemporary 
critics.  Whether,  in  the  review  here  taken,  she  has 
or  has  not  succeeded  in  presenting  a  fair  account  of 
Moore's  merits  and  failings,  it  must  be  for  the  reader 
to  judge.  But  one  thing  is  certain,  viz.,  that  such  as 
he  was,  the  best  and  highest  in  the  land  coveted  the 
possession  of  his  society  and  friendship  with  eager- 
ness; so  that,  if  Moore  really  was  what  some  have 
striven  to  make  it  appear  that  he  was,  then  the 
gentlemen  and  ladies  of  England  must  lie  open  to 
the  reproach  of  a  signal  want  of  taste  and  discern- 
ment. 

There  is  no  escaping  from  this  conclusion,  except 
by  admitting  the  substantial  claims  of  their  Idol  to 
the  admiration  and  affection  of  which  he  was  the 
object.     And  it  may  be  observed,  in  behalf  of  this 

G  2 


84  rREFACE. 

much  censured  favourite  of  all  ranks,  that  he  enjoyed 
his  popularity  to  the  last;  only  ceasing  to  receive 
the  cordial  attentions  of  his  friends  when  the  sad 
visitation  of  physical  and  mental  infirmity  rendered 
it  imperative  on  him  to  renounce  all  commerce  with 
society. 

H.  G. 

London,  October,  1854. 


MEMOIRS   OF   MOORE. 


Memoirs,  Journal,  and  Correspondence  of  Thomas  Moore.  Edited  by 
the  Eight  Honourable  Lord  John  Eussell,  M.P.  Vols.  I.  to  VI. 
8vo.     London:  1853. 

To  those  who,  like  ourselves,  are  verging  upon  their 
"grand  climacteric"  (all  the  world  knows  we  were 
born  in  1802),  these  volumes  cannot  fail  to  afford 
many  an  hour  of  delightful  and  interesting  reading. 
We  confess  to  having  been  absorbed  in  the  retrospec- 
tive details  of  a  period  which,  in  a  social  and  literary 
point  of  view,  had  so  much  to  distinguish  it;  details 
sketched  by  one  who  floated  on  the  tide  of  pleasur- 
able existence  in  both  these  forms,  and  whose  capacity 
for  enjoyment  seems  to  have  kept  pace  with  his 
opportunities. 

Like  many  men  of  ardent  sensibility,  Thomas 
Moore  had  a  vivid  conception  of  the  value  of  posthu- 
mous celebrity.  To  be  able  to  interest  his  fellow 
men  and  women  in  his  personal  feelings,  in  his  plea- 
sures and  pains,  his  triumphs  and  successes,  was  with 
Moore  an  object  of  undisguised  solicitude;  and  to  this 
we  are  indebted,  in  great  part,  though  not  entirely, 
for  a  minute  record  of  his  almost  daily  life,  his  inner- 
most thoughts,  and  his  relations  with  society  during 
the  meridian  of  his  existence.  If  it  be  objected — as, 
indeed,  we  have  already  heard  it  objected — to  this 
publication,  that  it  is  little  else   than    "  a  tissue  of 


86  MEMOIRS   OF   MOORE. 

egoistical,  vain,  and  trivial  passages  in  the  life  of  an 
iniprovideiit,  selfish  adventurer,"  the  answer  would 
be,  that  all  autobiography,  to  be  worth  reading  at  all, 
must  be  egoistical  and  vain ;  because  nobody  would 
take  so  much  trouble  except  for  the  sake  of  being 
allowed  to  talk  of  themselves  all  through  the  work, 
and  to  dwell,  ad  libitum^  upon  their  own  merits  and 
achievements.  The  use  of  the  personal  pronoun  has 
long  been,  by  a  very  natural  instinct  of  self-protec- 
tion, restricted  within  narrow  limits  by  the  higher 
classes  of  society ;  hence  poor  Moore  could  not  talk  of 
his  ovHi  glory  and  successes  whilst  alive,  and  it  was 
a  hard  case,  considering  how  much  he  had  to  be  vain 
of.  To  fly  to  his  closet,  and  record  the  flattering 
incidents  of  the  day,  was  his  best  and  most  obvious 
resource.  By  thus  "  entering  up"  the  tributes  as 
they  poured  in,  little  and  great,  Moore  indemnified 
himself,  by  anticipation,  for  the  suppression  of  all 
signs  of  present  pride  and  satisfaction.  And  since 
we  have  discovered  incontrovertible  evidence  in  these 
volumes  of  the  prodigious  amount  of  praise  and 
flattery  heaped  upon  his  head,  our  wonder — recollect- 
ing how  unaffectedly  he  bore  his  honours — becomes 
greater  and  greater  as  we  read. 

Until  the  appearance  of  this  publication,  it  had  not, 
indeed,  been  fully  present  to  us  how  extensively 
Moore  was  read  and  relished,  nor  how  widely  his 
reputation,  whether  as  a  poet,  as  a  wit,  a  lyric  com- 
poser, or,  God  save  the  mark !  a  sound  political  writer, 
had  circulated,  in  Europe  as  well  as  in  the  British 
Isles.  Yet  it  cannot  be  denied,  with  the  proofs 
before  us,  that  in  each  of  these  walks  of  composition, 
Thomas  Moore  was  regarded  with  enthusiastic  admi- 


MEMOIRS   OF    MOORE.  87 

ration  by  contemporaries,  throughout  the  social  scale, 
from  the  "  man  of  letters"  proper,  "  down  to  the  Miss 
in  her  teens."  And  as  to  personal  successes,  no  one, 
surely,  ever  surpassed  him.  By  his  touching  sen- 
timental singing,  he  enchanted  all  who  were  suscep- 
tible to  the  charms  of  music ;  by  his  vivacity;  sparkling 
conversation,  and  literary  accomplishments,  he  cap- 
tivated those  of  his  o-svn  sex  who  prized  convivial 
talents,  whilst  his  more  solid  merits  secured  for  him 
a  place  in  the  esteem  and  friendly  regard  of  some  of 
our  most  celebrated  countrymen.  Add  to  these 
sources  of  honourable  gratification,  the  remarkable 
fact  that  Moore  enjoyed,  and  deserved  to  enjoy,  his 
own  self-respect,  and  cherished  his  mental  indepen- 
dence throughout  all  vicissitudes  of  life,  and  we  have 
before  us  perhaps  the  amplest  justification  of  human 
vanity  which  purely  personal  quahties  can  well 
furnish. 

A  general  outline  of  Thomas  Moore's  life  will,  we 
apprehend,  be  acceptable  to  most  of  our  readers. 
Born  in  1779,  of  decent,  but  obscure  Irish  parentage, 
in  Dublin,  he  had  the  advantage  of  being  the  son  of 
a  clever,  active-minded  woman,  who  seems  to  have 
steadily  kept  in  view  the  main  purpose  of  forcmg 
education  upon  the  boy,  as  far  as  her  slender  means 
could  serve.  Moore  disliked  study,  and  would  much 
rather  have  sought  his  fortune  as  an  actor,  or  (what 
he  would  have  liked  still  better)  as  a  harlequin! 
But  Mrs.  Moore  compelled  him,  with  her  firm,  yet 
affectionate  authority,  to  acquire  such  an  amount  of 
learning  as  should  qualify  him  to  make  his  way  in 
some  one  of  the  walks  of  educated  Labour.  This 
purpose  accomplished,  by  his  having  graduated  at 


88  MEMOIRS   OF   MOOHE. 

Trinity  College,  Dublin,  young  Moore  quitted  the 
parental  roof,  and  at  the  age  of  nineteen  dropped 
down  into  a  humble  lodging  near  Portman  Square, 
with  but  a  small  sum  of  money  in  his  pocket,  and 
witliout  the  slightest  plan  for  earning  his  present 
subsistence.  He  possessed  scarcely  any  friends,  and 
knew  nobody  of  any  mark  in  the  world,  but  after  a 
while  contrived,  by  means  of  some  letters  of  introduc- 
tion he  had  brought  from  Dublin,  to  gain  admission 
into  a  few  families  (chiefly  Irish,  however)  where  he 
could  pass  his  evenings  and  occasionally  dine.  After 
getting  himself  admitted  of  the  Middle  Temple,  he 
went  back  to  Dublin  for  a  space,  but  shortly  returned 
to  London  (in  1799),  with  the  double  object  of  pro- 
secuting his  legal  studies  and  of  procuring  subscrip- 
tions to  his  translation  of  the  Odes  of  Anacreon ; 
the  latter  endeavour  was,  by  the  fortunate  accident  of 
Dr.  Lawrence  pronouncing  a  very  favourable  judg- 
ment upon  the  work,  attended  with  unlooked-for 
success.  At  this  period  Moore  makes  the  acquaint- 
ance of  Lord  Moira  (also  by  letters  of  recommenda- 
tion from  Irish  friends),  who  takes  kind  notice  of 
him,  and  asks  him  to  his  country  seat,  Donington 
Park.  With  the  Marquis  of  Lansdowne,  too  (father 
of  the  present  peer),  he  becomes  acquainted,  by  solicit- 
ing his  subscription  to  the  Anacreon^  which  Lord 
Lansdowne  consents  to  give,  and  adds  an  invitation 
to  young  Moore  to  call  upon  him  in  London.  The 
Anacreon  comes  out  at  length,  with  a  brilliant 
list  of  patrons'  names  attached  to  it,  and  makes  a 
decided  "  hit."  Moore  becomes  a  "  Lion,"  is  fete  in 
fashionable  circles,  gets  introduced  to  the  Prince  of 
Wales   (to   whom,   by  the  way,   the   Anacreon   was 


MEMOIRS   OP   MOOEE.  89 

dedicated,  by  "  permission"),  pays  a  visit  at  Don- 
ington  Park,  is  so  much  liked  there  that  it  is  with 
difficulty  he  can  get  away ;  and,  in  short,  finds  himself 
completely  launched  upon  the  great  world.  Here  are 
extracts  from  letters  addressed  to  his  mother  early  in 
1801,  at  the  age  of  two-and-twenty : — 

"  Mt  dearest  Mothee, — You  may  imagine  I  do  not  want  society 
here,  when  I  tell  you  that  last  night  I  had  six  invitations.  Every- 
thing goes  on  swimmingly  with  me.  I  dined  with  the  Bishop  of  Meath 
on  Friday  last,  and  went  to  a  party  at  Mrs.  Crewe's  in  the  evening. 
My  songs  have  taken  such  a  rage  :  even  surpassing  what  they  did  in 
Dublin 

"  There  is  not  a  night  that  I  have  not  three  parties  on  my  string, 
but  I  take  Hammersley's  advice  and  send  showers  of  apologies.  The 
night  before  last,  Lady  Harrington  sent  her  servant  after  me  to  two 
or  three  places,  with  a  ticket  for  the  '  Ancient  Music,'  which  is  the 
king's  concert,  and  which  is  so  select,  that  those  who  go  to  it  ought  to 
have  been  at  court  before.  Lady  H.  got  the  ticket  from  one  of  the 
princesses,  and  the  servant  at  last  found  me  where  I  dined,"  &c.  &c. 

.  .  .  .  "  Never  was  there  any  wight  so  idly  busy  as  I  am.  Nothing 
but  racketting ;  it  is,  indeed,  too  much,  and  I  intend  stealing  at  least  a 
fortnight's  seclusion,  by  leaving  word  at  my  door  that  I  am  gone  into 
the  country.  I  last  night  went  to  a  little  supper  after  the  Opera, 
where  the  Prince  and  Mrs.  Fitzherbert  were  ;  I  was  introduced  to 
her 

"  I  dine  with  Lord  Moira  to-morrow,  and  go  in  the  evening  with 
Lady  Charlotte  to  an  assembly  at  the  Countess  of  Cork's 

"  I  assure  you  I  am  six  feet  high  to-day,  after  discharging  my  debt 
of  701.  yesterday,  and  I  have  still  some  copies  on  my  hand  to  dispose 
of  for  myself.     The  new  edition  will  soon  be  out,"  &c 

"  I  was  last  night  at  a  ball — everybody  was  there — two  or  three  of 
the  princes,  the  stadtholder,  &c.  &c.  You  may  imagine  the  affability  of 
the  Prince  of  Wales,  when  his  address  to  me  was,  '  How  do  you  do, 
Moore  ?     I  am  glad  to  see  you.'  .... 

"  I  go  on  as  usual ;  I  am  happy,  careless,  comical, — everything  I 
could  wish  :  not  very  rich,  nor  yet  quite  poor;  all  I  desire  is  that 
my  dear  ones  at  home  may  be  as  contented  and  easy  in  mind  as  I 
am."  .... 

Such  an  extraordinary  start  into  popularity  and 
favour  with  the  London  world  afforded  the  young 
poet  of  two-and-twenty  a  hopeful  glance  into  a  lite- 


90  MEMOIRS   OF   MOORE. 

rary  career,  and  he  seems  accordingly  to  have 
neglected  the  pursuit  of  "  Grim  Gribber"*  for  the 
flowery  paths  of  imaginative  composition.  In  this 
mood  he  gladly  avails  himself  of  Lord  Moira's  kind 
hospitality,  and  spends  three  or  four  weeks  alone  at 
Donington,  storing  his  mind  by  assiduous  reading, 
for  which  a  fine  library  supplied  ample  resources. 
Strange  to  say,  during  this  studious  seclusion,  Moore 
appears  to  have  had  but  slender  longings  after  the 
excitement  of  the  London  salons :  and  evidences  are 
thickly  strewn  throughout  the  pages  of  his  Diary 
that  a  taste  for  rational  and  even  simple  occupations 
was  not  wanting  when  his  friends  would  permit  him 
its  exercise. 

Lord  Moira  was  not  long  in  procuring  for  his 
countryman,  what  was  hailed  by  the  latter  as  a  piece 
of  most  gratifying  good  fortune,  the  appointment  of 
Registrar  of  the  Admiralty  Court  of  Bermuda.  In 
spite  of  the  sneers  with  which  this  piece  of  prefer- 
ment has  been  mentioned,  as  having  been  productive 
of  more  injury  than  benefit  to  the  recipient,  Moore 
himself  never  regarded  it  but  with  becoming  grati- 
tude towards  his  noble  patron.  He  thus  writes  to 
his  mother  on  learning  the  news  of  his  appoint- 
ment : — 

"  Septemter  12,  1803. 

"  Mt  deaeest  Mothee, — I  enclose  you  a  note  I  received  from 
Merry  yesterday,  by  wliich  you  will  perceive  that  everything  is  in 
train  for  my  departure.     Nothing  could  be  more  lucky 

"  Heaven  smiles  upon  my  project,  and  I  see  nothing  in  it  now  but 
hope  and  happiness 

"  If  I  did  not  make  a  shilling  by  it,  the  new  character  it  gives  to  my 
pursuits,  the  claim  it  affords  me  upon  Government,  the  absence  I  shaU 


*  So  Jeremy  Bentham  called  the  study  of  Law. 


MEMOIRS   OF   MOORE.  91 

have  from  all  the  frippery  follies  that  would  hang  on  my  career  for  ever 
in  thia  country, — all  these  are  objects  invaluable  in  themselves,  ab- 
stracted from  the  pecuniary 

"  My  dear  father  should  write  to  Carpenter,  and  thank  him  for  the 
very  friendly  assistance  he  has  given  me ;  without  that  assistance  the 
breeze  would  be  fair  in  vain  for  me"  &c.  &c. 

After  a  year's  absence,  chiefly  at  his  post  in  the 
confessedly  delicious  island  of  Bermuda,  but  making 
besides  an  agreeable  tour  in  the  United  States  and 
in  Canada,  in  his  way  to  embark  for  England,  Moore 
returned,  to  the  undisguised  joy  of  all  his  friends. 
He  was  allowed  to  appoint  a  deputy  in  his  place  at 
Bermuda,  and  began  to  turn  his  mind  to  bookmaking 
as  a  means  of  earning  money.  On  Mr.  Pitt's  death 
a  new  political  combination  seemed  to  promise  some 
advantage  to  Moore,  and  in  fact.  Lord  Moira  did 
obtain  the  comfortable  berth  of  barrack-master  in 
Dublin  for  the  father,  pending  some  suitable  promo- 
tion in  favour  of  the  son.  The  latter,  on  the  qui  vive 
of  expectation,  writes  to  his  friend  Miss  Godfrey 
(July,  1806),  "Lord  Moira  has  told  me  that  the 
commissionership  intended  for  me  is  to  be  in  Ireland, 
and  that  if  there  are  any  such  appointments,  I  am 
to  have  one  of  them.  Such  are  my  plans,  and  such 
are  my  hopes.  I  wait  but  for  the  arrival  of  the 
Edinburgh  Review^  and  then  '  a  long  farewell  to  all 
my  greatness.'  London  shall  never  see  me  act  the 
farce  of  gentlemanship  in  it  any  more,"  &c.  &c. 

The  Edinhurgh  Review  arrives,  and  contains,  to 
Moore's  infinite  mortification,  a  somewhat  contemp- 
tuous notice  of  his  new  production  {Odes  and 
Epistles). 

Hence  the  well-known  duel  with  Jeffrey;  or, 
rather,  the  prelude  to  one,  for  the  belligerent  parties 


92  MEMOIRS   OF   MOORE. 

were  interrupted  by  peace  officers.  And  at  this 
point  of  Moore's  history  there  enters  upon  the  scene 
one  whose  constant  kindness,  whose  undeviating  attach- 
ment, friendly  counsel  and  assistance,  must  be  counted 
among  the  most  precious  possessions  of  the  poet 
throughout  his  life.  We  allude  to  Mr.  Rogers,  who 
stepped  in  to  ojQPer  bail  for  Moore's  appearance  if 
called  upon.  However,  the  less  that  is  added  about 
this  silly  affair  the  better.  The  would-be  comba- 
tants became  firm  friends  within  a  year  or  two,  and 
when  Moore's  unfortunate  affair  of  the  Bermuda 
defalcation  fell  out  (in  1818),  Jeffrey  was  among 
the  first  to  tender  his  contribution  in  aid. 

We  gather  from  the  Letters  that  Moore  spent 
great  part  of  the  years  1807-8  at  Donington  Park, 
by  permission  of  its  usually  absent  lord,  amusing 
himself,  and  working  at  the  same  time,  on  Lord- 
knows-what  literary  projects.  "  I  read"  (he  says  to 
Miss  Godfrey  in  a  letter  dated  March,  1807)  "much 
more  than  I  write,  and  think  much  more  than 
either."  Again,  to  his  mother  (April  in  this  year)  : — 
"  The  time  flies  over  me  as  swift  as  if  I  was  in  the 
midst  of  dissi]3ation,  which  is  a  tolerable  proof  that  I 
am  armed  for  either  field,  for  folly  or  for  thought. 
The  family  do  not  talk  of  coming  till  June,  and  if 
that  be  the  case,  I  shall  not  budge." 

But  few  letters  are  to  be  found  relating  to  the 
period  from  1807  to  1811  inclusive,  which  Moore 
seems  to  have  distributed  between  Donington  Park, 
Dublin,  and  lodgings  in  London.  We  learn,  how- 
ever, by  looking  into  his  Notices  of  the  Life  of  Lord 
Byron^  that  it  was  in  the  autumn  of  the  year  1811 
that  he  formed  the  acquaintanceof  that  distinguished 


MEMOIRS    OF   MOORE.  93 

genius.  It  arose  out  of  a  little  epistolary  skirmish 
between  them  about  a  supposed  imputation  upon 
Moore's  veracity,  Avhich  ended  by  an  offer  from  the 
noble  poet  (having  meanwhile  "  explained"  it  to  the 
satisfaction  of  his  correspondent)  to  meet  him  on 
amicable  terms.  It  was  at  the  dinner-table  of  Mr. 
Rogers  that  Byron  and  Moore  first  came  together; 
the  fourth  member  of  the  party  being  Thomas 
Campbell,  who  (as  was,  indeed,  the  case  with  Mr. 
Rogers  himself)  also  enjoyed  Lord  Byron's  company 
on  that  day  for  the  first  time. 

This  memorable  introduction  between  Moore  and 
Byron  resulted  in  an  intimacy  and  an  attachment  on 
both  sides,  which  never  lost  its  charm  to  the  latest 
moment  of  Byron's  existence.  The  rapidity  with 
which  their  mutual  friendship  grew  up  was  somewhat 
extraordinary,  as  Moore  himself  admits.  But  it  is 
not  so  surprising  when  we  recall  the  captivations  of 
Moore's  society  on  the  one  side,  and  the  admiration 
which  Byron  excited  in  the  breast  of  "  Anacreon" 
on  the  other;  opportunities  of  meeting,  too,  were 
furnished  in  abundance,  since  they  frequented  the 
same  circles,  and  -svere  at  this  period  both  plunged  in 
dissipation  and  folly;  that  is  to  say,  in  1812,  and 
again  in  the  London  season  of  1813,  wherein  Lord 
Byron's  fame  first  rose  to  its  full  height  (on  the 
appearance  of  Childe  Harold)^  and  the  London 
world  pursued  him  with  the  most  extravagant 
homage  and  adulation.  Moore's  Life  of  Byron  tells 
us,  indeed,  more  of  himself  at  this  stage  of  his  history 
than  is  revealed  by  the  present  publication,  whilst 
Lord  Byron's  fondness  for  his  friend's  company  is 
thus  attested :   "  Moore,  the  epitome,"  writes  Byron 


94  MEMOIRS    OF    MOORE. 

to  another  friend,  "of  all  that  is  exquisite  in  personal 
or  poetical  accomplishments."* 

During  one  of  Moore's  Irish  trips  he  formed  part 
of  that  famed  theatrical  society  which  figured  on  the 
Kilkenny  boards;  the  male  actors  being  amateurs, 
and  the  female  ones  mostly,  if  not  all,  professional, 
having  at  their  head  the  "  star"  of  the  hour,  the 
celebrated  Miss  O'Neil.  Moore  acted  well,  especially 
in  comedy,  as  we  have  been  informed  by  one  who 
was  fortunate  enough  to  witness  those  remarkable 
performances  about  the  year  1810.  Among  other 
parts,  his  personation  of  Mungo  in  the  agreeable 
opera  of  The  Padlock^  was,  it  is  said,  eminently 
happy. 

Two  sisters,  both  of  them  extremely  attractive  in 
person,  as  well  as  irreproachable  in  conduct,  also 
formed  a  part  of  this  "  corps ;"  acting,  singing,  and 
ever  and  anon  dancing,  to  the  delight  of  the  audience. 
With  one  of  these  Moore  fell  desperately  in  love, 
and  being  regarded  favourably  in  return  by  Miss 
Elizabeth  Dyke,  he  a  few  months  later  united  himself 
with  her  in  marriage,  without,  it  would  seem, 
acquainting  his  parents  with  his  intention.  The 
ceremony  took  place  at  St.  Martin's  church,  in  Lon- 
don, in  March,  1811,  and  Mrs.  Thomas  Moore  was 
introduced  to  her  husband's  London  friends  durino^ 
the  same  spring.  By  these  she  was  cordially  received, 
although  there  was  but  one  opinion  among  them  as 
to  the  imprudence  of  the  step  in  Moore's  notoriously 
narrow  circumstances. 

Not  to  lose  his  privilege  of  using  Donington  library, 

*  Life  of  Byron,  vol.  ii.  p.  95. 


MEMOIRS    OF   MOORE.  95 

the  young  couple  established  themselves  in  a  small 
cottage  at  Kegworth,  within  a  few  miles  of  the  park, 
Moore  working  continually  in  the  library  for  many 
months.  But  towards  the  end  of  1812  all  hopes  of 
advancement  through  the  favour  of  Lord  Moira,  after 
many  an  anxious  ebb  and  flow,  finally  vanished. 
That  nobleman,  whose  affairs  had  become  irreme- 
diably embarrassed,  came  to  a  compromise,  as  one 
may  say,  with  his  political  principles.  Not  liking  to 
throw  them  overboard,  by  joining  a  government 
resolutely  opposed  to  Catholic  emancipation,  he 
judged  it  nowise  disreputable  to  him  to  accept  at  its 
hands  the  Governor-Generalship  of  India,  which  he 
endeavoured  to  persuade  his  friends  to  regard  as 
more  a  military  than  a  civil  appointment.  On  learn- 
ing Lord  Moira's  acceptance  of  this  splendid  post, 
both  Moore  and  his  friends  appear  to  have  cherished 
an  expectation  that  his  Lordship  would  propose  to 
take  Moore  with  him  to  India  in  some  capacity  or 
another,  whereby  his  fortunes  might  be  materially 
improved.  One  can  hardly  comprehend  how 
"  friends"  such  as  Miss  Godfrey  and  Lady  Donegal, 
for  instance,  or,  indeed,  how  Moore  himself,  could 
have  failed  to  perceive  that  Lord  Moira,  the  avowed 
intimate  of  the  Regent,  owing  this  appointment  to 
the  personal  will  and  protection  of  his  royal  master, 
was  utterly  mcapacitated  from  extending  his  patro- 
nage to  the  notorious  satirist  of  that  master.  With- 
out going  so  far  as  to  ascribe  to  the  Prince  any 
interposition  in  the  matter,  the  simple  fact  of  Moore's 
having  kept  up  a  running  fire  of  ridicule  and  amused 
the  town  with  lampoons  against  the  Regent,  for 
many  months  previous,  ought,  we  should  have  ima- 


90  MEMOIRS   OF   MOORE. 

gined,  to  have  been  amply  sufficient  to  account  for 
Lord  Moira's  conduct.*  And  when  we  recall  the 
peculiarly  stinging  and  personal  quality  of  those 
epigrammatic  thrusts,  we  cannot  but  wonder  at  Lord 
John's  mild  manner  of  characterizing  them,  saying, 
in  a  note  referring  to  the  Ticopenny  Post-Bag^ 
that  "  they  are  full  of  fun  and  humour,  but  without 

ill-nature  !"t 

But  whatever  he  felt,  or  his  friends  thought,  about 
this  constructive  desertion  on  the  part  of  Lord  Moira, 
the    truth    was  that  Moore   found   himself  thereby 

*  The  follovring  entry,  under  Dec.  19,  1825,  throws  some  illustration 
upon  Lord  Moira's  reasons  for  the  course  which  he  took  on  this  occa- 
sion : — "  The  night  before  last  I  received  a  letter  from  Crampton, 
enclosing  one  from  Shaw  (the  Lord-Lieutenant's  secretary),  the  purport 
of  which  was,  that  the  Lord-Lieutenant  meant  to  continue  my  father's 
half-pay  in  the  shape  of  a  pension  to  my  sister.  Eesolved,  of  course, 
to  decHne  this  favour,  but  wrote  a  letter  full  of  thankfulness  to  Cramp- 
ton.  Find  since  that  this  was  done  at  Crampton's  suggestion  :  that 
Lord  Wellesley  spoke  of  the  difficulty  there  was  in  the  xcay,  from  the 
feelings  the  King  most  naturally  entertained  toicards  me,  and  from 
himself  being  the  personal  friend  of  the  King,  but  that,  on  further  con- 
sideration, he  saw  he  could  do  it  without  any  reference  to  the  other 
side  of  the  Channel,  and  out  of  the  pension-fund  placed  at  his  disposal 
as  Lord-Lieutenant."     (Vol.  v.  p.  24.) 

t  In  the  preface  to  Moore's  ninth  vol.  of  WorTcs,  &c.,  the  author 
takes  pains  to  disavow  having  been  actuated  by  any  malignant  feeling 
against  the  Government  of  that  day  ;  and,  indeed,  seeks  to  excuse 
himself  by  saying  he  wrote  these  squibs  as  party  missiles,  without 
•wishing  any  harm  to  their  subjects ;  adding,  that  the  late  Lord  Holland 
also  regretted  the  acrimony  with  which  the  Whig  party  waged  their 
warfare  in  1812  and  following  years  against  the  Prince,  his  govern- 
ment, and  friends.  We  are  inclined  to  credit  Moore's  assertion,  that 
he  himself  was  visited  with  something  like  self-reproach,  twenty  years 
later  ;  whilst,  that  Lord  Holland,  whose  generous  soul  was  incapable 
of  harbouring  resentful  emotions  after  the  occasion  was  past,  should 
have  looked  back  upon  former  enmities  and  political  conflicts  with 
unaffected  regret,  is  nowise  surprising.  But  this  admission  made, 
we  are  bound  to  say  that  the  poet,  as  well  as  the  peer,  loere  engaged  in 
cordial  combination  for  party  ends,  with  the  most  violent  of  their 
political  allies. 


MEMOIRS    OF    MOORE.  97 

completely  cast  adrift  upon  the  waters,  shipwrecked 
and  disheartened.  Nevertheless,  he  so  far  compressed 
his  feelings  of  disappointment  as  to  speak  of  his 
patron's  past  kindnesses  and  good  offices  as  "  sealing 
his  lips"  against  complaint.  (Vol.  i.  p.  323.)  On 
quitting  England  for  the  East,  Lord  Moira  sent 
Moore  fifteen  dozen  of  his  choicest  wine  as  a  parting 
token  of  regard. 

Nothing  could  be  more  natural  under  the  circum- 
stances, than  that  the  poor  poet  should  find  in 
Holland  House  a  "  harbour  of  refuge"  in  his  distress. 
Admitted  to  familiar  intimacy  with  the  distinguished 
society  which  habitually  met  within  those  time- 
honoured  walls,  he  became  more  and  more  attached 
to  the  Whig  party,  and  exerted  his  talents  in  its 
service  with  renewed  vigour :  producing  at  intervals 
(in  the  columns  of  the  Morning  Chronicle)  some  of 
the  most  pungent  and  humorous  satires  which  poli- 
tical warfare  has  ever  engendered.  They  were 
extensively  circulated  and  relished  at  the  time,  and 
are  perhaps  destined  to  be  remembered  as  chefs- 
d'oeuvre  of  their  kind,  after  his  other  works  shall  be 
forgotten. 

On  this  passage  in  Moore's  career  much  censure 
has  been  pronounced,  even  more  than  the  case  called 
for,  we  think;  although  it  must  be  confessed,  that  to 
drive  a  trade  in  scurrility,  as  Moore  did, — to  combine 
party  warfare  with  pecuniary  profit, — exposes  the 
individual  who  does  so  to  a  certain  measure  of  moral 
reprobation.  There  have  not  been  wanting,  however, 
in  our  own  day,  examples  of  this  twofold  employment 
of  talent  in  the  persons  of  well-known  characters, 
who  have  not  thereby  been  placed  under  any  sort  of 

H 


98  MEMOIRS   OF   MOORE. 

ban  for  their  pains.  Moore  himself  felt  at  times 
pricks  of  conscience  at  writing  lampoons  which  were 
to  be  paid  for,  but  salved  over  the  sore  by  reflecting 
(and  with  some  justice  too)  that  his  "  squibs"  served 
to  promote  a  good  cause, — a  "  set-off"  not  always 
within  the  grasp  of  a  professional  newspaper  scribe. 

We  find  Mr.  and  Mrs.  Moore  in  1813  at  another 
and  more  attractive  little  dwelling,  called  Mayfield, 
near  Ashbourne,  at  which  Mr.  Rogers  pays  them  a 
friendly  visit.  And  now  children  begin  to  cluster 
about  the  poor  poet's  hearth,  whilst  his  wife's  health, 
being  delicate  and  weak  to  a  deplorable  degree,  gives 
him  much  uneasiness,  as,  in  fact,  it  continued  to  do 
throughout  the  whole  of  his  life.  No  topic,  always 
excepting  that  of  Lord  Lansdowne  (who  is  the 
"  Protagonist"  of  the  Diary) ^  is  half  so  often  re- 
curred to  as  the  unhappiness  which  "  Bessy's"  bad 
health  occasions  him. 

Although  intent  upon  his  long-meditated  task, 
Lalla  Rookh,  Moore  contrived  to  support  himself 
and  his  family  by  means  of  news^pa^eY  facetice,  humo- 
rous satires,  "  Melodies,"  and  songs  (an  opera  was 
even  composed),  from  1811  to  1817.  His  connexion 
with  Richard  Power,  the  musical  publisher  in  the 
Strand,  was  for  years  his  main  stay,  and  a  "  bill  upon 
Power,"  to  be  taken  up  or  not  (as  the  case  might  be) 
when  due,  by  the  efforts  of  his  pen  and  fancy,  was 
the  regular  issue  out  of  every  embarrassment  (and 
they  were  not  few)  which  occurred. 

A  letter  written  in  1812  furnishes  a  tolerably 
clear  notion  of  the  position  in  which  Moore's  affairs 
stood  after  the  downfall  of  his  prospects  of  advance- 
ment : — 


MEMOIRS    OF    MOORE.  99 

"  My  dearest  Mother, — I  have  not  had  an  answer  from  Dalby 
yet,  but  am  in  tlie  same  mind  about  retirintr  somewhere,  and  I  should 
prefer  Donington,  both  from  the  society  and  the  library 

"  I  don't  know  whether  I  told  you  before  (and  if  I  did  not,  it  was 
my  uncertainty  about  it  for  some  time  which  prevented  me),  that  the 
Powers  give  me  between  them  five  hundred  a  year  for  my  music ; 
the  agreement  is  for  seven  years,  and  as  much  longer  as  I  choose  to 

say So  you  see,  darling  mother  !  my  prospect  is  by  no  means 

an  unpromising  one,  and  the  only  sacrifice  I  must  make  is,  the  giving 
■up  London  society,  which  involves  me  in  great  expenses,  and  leaves 
me  no  time  for  the  industry  that  alone  would  enable  me  to  support 
them  ;  this  I  shall  do  without  the  least  regret,"  [Memoirs,  vol.  i. 
p.  274.) 

The  long-promised  work,  after  prodigious  brain- 
spinning  and  careful  polishing,  made  its  appearance 
in  1817,  fully  realizing  the  expectations  entertained 
of  it  by  the  public,  for  a  more  complete  success  has 
rarely  attended  an  author.  Lalla  Roohh  was  univer- 
sally read,  admired,  and  praised.  It  was  dramatized  at 
Berlin,  and  acted  there  by  the  Court  itself;  was  trans- 
lated into  more  than  one  European  language,  as  well 
as  into  Persian,  and,  in  short,  enjoyed  a  reign  of  more 
than  average  duration  in  the  realms  of  literature. 
The  "  Letters"  teem  with  testimonies  to  its  extraor- 
dinary attraction,  and  these,  too,  from  superior  judges 
of  literary  merit.  This  must  appear  surprising  to 
the  readers  of  fiction  of  the  present  day,  for  whom 
the  adventures,  sorrows,  and  even  loves,  of  such  fan- 
ciful and  poetical  beings  would  probably  yield  but 
slight  interest :  certainly  less  than  those  of  the  green- 
grocer or  factory-spinner.  But  thirty-five  years 
necessarily  bring  altered  tastes  upon  their  wing. 

In  one  short  year  after  this  imaginative  tale  came 
out,  Moore  writes  (under  date  of  March,  1818)  to  his 
mother,  "  They  will  soon  go  to  press  with  a  seventh 
edition  of  Lalla  Rookh."     Messrs  Longman  paid  the 

H  2 


100  MEMOIRS   OF   MOORE. 

author  no  less  than  three  thousand  guineas  for  the 
copyright.  It  was  dedicated  to  Mr.  Rogers,  to  whom, 
indeed,  it  was  in  great  measure  indebted  for  its 
origin.  "  The  subject,"  writes  Moore  to  his  friend 
Dalton,  in  1814,  "  is  one  of  Rogers's  suggesting,  and 
so  far  I  am  lucky,  for  it  quite  enchants  me;  and,  if 
what  old  Dionysius  the  critic  says  be  true,  that  it  is 
impossible  to  write  disagreeably  upon  agreeable  sub- 
jects, I  am  not  without  hopes  that  I  shall  do  some- 
thing which  will  not  disgrace  me." 

The  sum  Moore  received  for  Lalla  Roohh^  though 
large,  did  not  conduce  so  much  as  might  have  been 
supposed  to  his  independence.  Writing  to  Mrs.  Moore 
(his  mother)  in  1817,  he  says,  "I  am  to  draw  a 
thousand  pounds  for  the  discharge  of  my  debts,  and 
to  leave  the  other  two  thousand  in  their  hands  (re- 
ceiving a  bond  for  it)  ....  The  annual  interest 
upon  this  (which  is  a  hundred  pounds)  my  father  is 
to  draw  upon  them  for  quarterly,  and  this,  I  hope, 
with  his  half-pay,  will  make  you  tolerably  comfort- 
able. By  this  arrangement,  you  see  I  do  not 
touch  a  sixpence  of  the  money  for  my  own  present 
use  .  .  ," 

Ashbourne  was  now  abandoned,  and  Moore  took  a 
cottage  at  Hornsey.  "  Living  in  London  is  what  I 
do  not  now  like  at  all,"  he  says  to  his  mother  (May, 
1817).  About  this  same  date  he  writes  to  her  of  a 
"dinner"  he  had  been  at;  and  adds,  "It  will  amuse 
you  to  find  that  Croker  was  the  person  that  gave 
my  health.  I  could  not  have  a  better  proof  of  the 
station  which  I  hold  in  the  public  eye  than  that 
Croker  should  claim  friendship  with  me  before  such 
men  as  Peel,  the  Duke  of  Cumberland,  &c.     I  was 


MEMOIRS   OF   MOORE.  101 

received  with  very  flattering  enthusiasm  by  the  meet- 
ing .  .^  ." 

Having,  as  he  conceived,  earned  a  claim  to  enjoy  a 
holiday,  by  the  achievement  of  his  task,  Moore  set 
oif,  in  company  with  his  friend  J\lr.  Rogers,  on  a  trip 
to  Paris.  During  the  first  few  years  which  followed 
upon  the  peace  of  1815,  there  was  a  positive  disloca- 
tion of  English  society  going  on,  caused  by  the  eager 
rush  of  our  countrymen  across  the  Channel.  A  long 
privation  of  the  delights  of  continental  travel  had 
whetted  the  appetite  for  such  enjoyments,  and  the 
English  moved  off  in  masses,  resembling,  it  might  be 
said,  nothing  so  much  as  the  break  up  of  the  "  Polar 
Pack."  Moore,  like  the  rest,  becomes  enchanted  with 
Paris,  and  writes  home,  "  If  I  can  persuade  Bessy  to 
the  measure,  it  is  my  intention  to  come  and  live  here 
for  two  or  three  years."  However,  on  his  return, 
which  took  place  a  few  weeks  later,  the  loss  of  a  child 
(being  the  second  blow  of  the  kind)  checked  all  pro- 
jects of  a  foreign  residence.  A  cottage  within  a  walk 
of  Bowood,  shortly  after  offering  an  eligible  "  perch," 
the  mourners  removed  to  that  humble  yet  pleasant 
home,  in  which  the  poet  was  fated  to  end  his  days ;  the 
happiest  of  which,  probably,  after  all,  may  be  said 
to  have  been  passed  whilst  master  of  Sloperton 
Cottage. 

An  unlooked-for  calamity,  which  occurred  in  the 
following  year,  clouded  over  his  prospects  just  as 
Moore  was  beginning  to  see  his  way  to  independence 
and  honourable  ease.*  There  was,  indeed,  one  con- 
soling circumstance  which  lessened  the  general  gloom 

*  The  Bermuda  deputy  absconded  with  the  proceeds  of  a  ship  and 
cargo  deposited  in  his  hands,  for  which  Moore  was  held  answerable. 


102  MEMOIRS    OF  MOORE. 

of  his  position,  namely,  the  cordial  and  numerous 
offers  of  assistance  tendered  by  generous  friends. 

But  although  he  was,  as  might  be  supposed,  wholly 
unequal  to  deal  with  the  embarrassments  he  saw 
thickening  around  him,  he  resolutely  declined  pecu- 
niary aid,  and  determined  to  work  out  his  own  re- 
demption by  the  industrious  application  of  his  indi- 
vidual talents.  (Vol.  ii.  p.  85.)  The  history  of  this 
long,  though  fortunately  effectual,  struggle,  it  were 
superfluous  to  recapitulate  here ;  but  the  issue  may 
be  stated  as  havino;  been  creditable  to  Moore's  sense 
of  self-respect  and  integrity  of  character.  The  only 
friend  who,  as  we  believe,  eventually  enjoyed  the  pri- 
vilege of  contributing  to  his  enfranchisement,  was  the 
noble  editor  of  these  volumes;  the  poet  permitting 
him  to  apply  towards  the  extinction  of  his  Bermuda 
obligations  a  sum  of  200/.,  the  produce  of  his  lord- 
ship's own  literary  labours. 

The  Diary  commences  with  the  month  of  August, 
1818,  a  few  months  after  the  Bermuda  misfortune 
had  happened ;  and  gives  indications  of  Moore's  being 
already  engaged  upon  his  Life  of  Sheridan.  Notwith- 
standing the  uneasy  state  of  mind  in  which  he  lived 
at  this  time,  from  apprehensions  of  a  prison  hang- 
ing over  him,  such  was  the  indomitable  cheerfulness 
of  the  man,  that  he  writes  to  Lady  Donegal  from  his 
new  home  (in  May,  1818): — "For  nothing  but  to 
gratify  my  poor  mother,  would  I  leave  just  now  my 
sweet,  quiet  cottage,  where,  in  spite  of  proctors,  depu- 
ties, and  all  other  grievances,  1  am  as  happy  as,  I 
believe,  this  world  will  allow  anyone  to  be;  and  if  I 
could  but  give  the  blessing  of  health  to  the  dear  cot- 
tager by  my  side,  I  would  defy  the  devil  and  all  his 


MEMOIRS    OF   MOORE.  103 

works,  and  Sir  William  Scott  to  boot."     (Yol.  ii.  p. 
137.) 

An  inexhaustible  flow  of  spirits,  coupled  with  a 
boundless    elasticity   of    character    and    a    sanguine 
temper,  proved  through  life  Moore's  master-key  to 
happiness.     And  we  shall  see  as  his  diary  proceeds 
that  few  mortals  have  ever  been  so  largely  blest  with 
this  "  sunshine  of  the  breast."    When  it  is  considered 
how  indissolubly  men  usually  connect  the  possession 
of  wealth  with  the  enjoyment  of  existence — how  we 
Britons  "  toil  and  moil"  to  acquire  it,  and  what  sacri- 
fices we  make  to  escape  from  comparative  poverty — 
the  spectacle  of  a  man  "  without  a  shilling  to  call  his 
own,"  flourishing  in   all  the  pride  of  aristocratical 
friendships    and   culling   the  choicest  pleasures   life 
affords,    really   becomes  almost  too  much  for   one's 
patience.     It  may  be  doubted  whether,   at  any  one 
period  of  his  life,  Moore  knew  what  it  was  to  be  sol- 
vent; yet  he  slept  tranquilly,  in  the  persuasion  that 
he  carried  in  his  nightcap  a  talisman,  an  Aladdin's 
lamp,  which  he  had  only  to  rub  to  become  rich ;  at 
least  rich  enough  for  his   and   "  Bessy's"  moderate 
wants.     Nay,  more,  as  he  mounts  to  his  garret  in 
Bury-street,  farthing  candle  in  hand,  he  can  dwell  on 
the  recollection  of  having,  half-an-hour  before,  shone 
a  "  star  of  the  first  water"  in  the  bright  firmament  of 
Almack's,  and  formed  the  subject  of  rivalry  between 
ladies  of  rank,  beauty,  and  fashion,  to  obtain  the  pri- 
vilege of  possessing  him  as  their  guest. 

We  turn  now  to  the  reverse  of  the  picture — hard 
literary  labour. 

The  Life  of  Sheridan  consumed  the  greater  portion 
of  the  author's  working  time  from    1822   to   1825, 


104  MEMOIRS   OF   MOORE. 

costing  him  a  world  of  pains,  and  not  a  few  disagree- 
able and  tiresome  researches.  Embarrassing  doubts 
as  to  the  colouring  proper  to  be  given  to  certain 
passages,  and  honest  disgust  at  the  generally  discre- 
ditable cast  of  the  character  he  had  to  pourtray,  were 
frequently  present  with  the  biographer,  who  obviously 
felt  his  task  oppressive.  Here  is  an  entry  of  Sept., 
1818  : — "  In  the  garden  all  day — delicious  weather — 
at  my  Sheridan  task  from  ten  till  three  ...  I  often 
wish  Sheridan,  Miss  Linley,  and  Matthews  at  the 
devil.  This  would  have  been  a  day  for  poetry,  and 
yet  thus  have  I  lost  all  this  most  poetical  summer." 
(VoL  ii.  p.  173.) 

Another  entry  at  this  period  is  worth  quoting,  as 
an  example  of  Moore's  power  of  giving  himself  up  to 
present  feeling,  regardless  of  harassing  contingencies : 
— "  One  day  so  like  another,  that  there  is  little  by 
which  to  distinguish  their  features;  and  these  are  the 
happiest ;  true  cottage  days,  tranquil  and  industrious. 
....  Pursued  my  task  all  day  in  the  garden,"  &c. 

The  amusing  jeu  d^esprit  which  his  trip  to  Paris 
gave  rise  to,  The  Fudge  Family^  and  which  had  con- 
siderable vogue,  furnished  a  welcome  addition  to  "  the 
supplies."  By  way  of  keeping  them  up,  too,  he  ex- 
cogitated another  piquant^  though  not  perha]3S  very 
felicitous  satire,  Tom  Cribb's  Memorial^  of  which 
Moore  himself  felt  not,  we  suspect,  particularly  proud. 
There  is  in  the  Diary  the  following  sentence: — 
"  Went  on  with  the  slang  epistle.  It  seems  profana- 
tion to  write  such  buffoonery  in  the  midst  of  this 
glorious  sunshine;  but,  alas!  money  must  be  had; 
and  these  trifles  bring  it  soonest  and  easiest."  (Vol. 
ii.  p.  218.) 


MEMOIRS   OF   MOORE.  105 

The  Bermuda  matter  wearing  a  serious  aspect 
towards  the  middle  of  the  following  year  (1819), 
Moore  judged  it  prudent  to  take  steps  for  avoiding 
legal  pursuit.  He  had  some  idea  of  betaking  himself 
to  Holyrood  House,  in  expectation  of  which  Sir 
James  Mackintosh  writes  to  him  thus  : — "  You  will 
find  in  Edinburgh  as  many  friends  and  admirers 
as  even  you  could  find  anywhere."  But  the  pros- 
pect of  going  to  the  Continent,  in  company  with  his 
friend  Lord  John  Russell,  came  between,  and  decided 
him  upon  passing  a  few  months  abroad;  the  rather 
as  Lord  and  Lady  Lansdowne  were  contemplating 
an  excursion  to  Paris,  and  Moore  expected  to  meet 
them  in  that  city. 

All  this  came  duly  to  pass :  moreover.  Lord  John  and 
Moore  travelled  on  together  across  the  Alps,  as  far  as 
Milan,  where  the  friends  took  leave  of  each  other,  not 
without  regret.  Moore,  full  of  curiosity  to  see  more  of 
Italy,  sets  off  alone,  in  a  crazy  vehicle  bought  at  Milan 
for  the  journey,  and  first  wends  his  way,  by  Brescia, 
Padua,  &c.,  to  the  spot  where  Lord  Byron,  who  had 
recently  achieved  his  most  striking  exploit  in  the  paths 
of  gallantry,  was  at  this  time  residing  near  Fusina. 
To  our  thinking,  this  journal  of  Moore's  Italian  tour 
affords  the  most  interesting  matter  of  any  in  the 
volumes.  We  hardly  call  to  mind  any  autobiography 
which  more  entirely  reflects  the  thoughts,  feelings,  and 
foibles  of  the  writer,  so  that  one  seems  to  follow  him 
about,  with  a  thoroughly  familiar  companionship, 
owing  to  the  rare  fidelity  and  candour  with  which  he 
records  both  his  proceedings  and  reflections. 

What,  indeed,  can  be  more  life-like  than  the  details 
of  the  few  days  he  spent  at  Venice,  comprehending 


lOG  MEMOIRS    OF   MOORE. 

many  hours  passed  in  the  company  of  Lord  Byron? 
We  here  see  these  two  creative  geniuses  en  deshabille^ 
and  are  enabled  to  add  one  more  to  the  evidences  we 
already  possess,  how  completely  the  imaginative  faculty 
can  be  cast  aside,  and  the  gross  reality  of  human 
nature  suffered  to  predominate,  in  the  persons  of  great 
poets;  as,  indeed,  with  great  orators,  painters,  great 
musical  composers,  and  the  like.  It  would  seem  that 
splendid  gifts  are  frequently  associated  with  a  lively 
appetite  and  capacity  for  enjoyment,  and  that  the 
whole  Being,  ardently  constituted  in  every  respect, 
must  expend  its  various  forces  in  turn,  in  order  to 
maintain  its  balance  of  powers.* 

The  noble  Bard  at  least  was  aroused  from  all  Ms 
sentimental  musings  by  the  arrival  of  "  Anacreon  " ; 
and  this  to  so  great  a  degree  as  to  destroy  all  the 
pleasure  of  the  latter  in  approaching  Venice:  Lord 
Byron's  rattling  ludicrous  talk  utterly  putting  to 
flight  the  whole  illusion  and  poetic  charm  of  Moore's 
first  gondola  voyage.     (Vol.  iii.  p.  24.) 

Five  days  of  delightful  racketing  ensued:  Lord 
Byron,  although  he  could  not  quit  the  young  "  con- 
tessa"  with  whom  he  had  but  just  set  up  house  at  La 
Mira,  insisted  on  Moore's  taking  up  his  quarters  at 
his  palazzo  in  Venice,  coming  in  occasionally  himself 
to  enjoy  his  friend's  company.  They  dine  together 
at  the  "Pellegrino"  more  than  once,  go  to  the  theatre, 
and  afterwards  adjourn  to  a  sort  of  public-house,  "  to 
drink  hot  punch;  forming  a  strange  contrast  to  a 
dirty  cobbler,  whom  we  saw  in  a  nice  room  delicately 

*  The  names  of  Eaphael,  Michael  Angelo,  Benvenuto  Cellini,  Alfieri, 
Sheridan,  Mozart,  Charles  James  Fox,  Eossini,  Mirabeau,  Person, 
Bums,  &c.,  may  in  some  sort  serve  to  sustain  this  hypothesis.^ 


MEMOIRS    OF   MOORE.  107 

eating  ice.  Lord  B.  took  me  home  in  his  gondola  at 
two  o'clock :  a  beautiful  moonlight,  and  the  stillness 
and  grandeur  of  the  whole  scene,  gave  a  nobler  idea 
of  Venice  than  I  had  yet  had."     (Vol.  iii.  p.  28.) 

The  two  poets  were  not  alone  on  these  occasions, 
for  another  Englishman,  named  Scott,  whom  Lord 
Byron  had  requested  to  accompany  Moore  about 
Yenice,  usually  formed  one  of  their  party.  By  a 
whimsical  caprice  of  fate,  this  fortunate  mdividual 
afterwards  became  transformed  into  a  Northumbrian 
parson,  and,  to  the  best  of  our  belief,  still  lives  on 
his  hill  top;  talking  ever  and  anon  of  these  Vene- 
tian orgies  as  of  passages  in  a  former  state  of  exist- 
ence. 

On  leaving  Venice,  Moore  travelled,  via  Bologna,  to 
Florence,  where  he  worked  hard  at  sight-seeing;  but, 
as  everywhere  else,  diversifying  those  duties  by 
theatres  and  society.  Lady  Morgan  at  this  period 
was  in  the  ascendant ;  and  through  her  and  Lady  Burg- 
hersh,  Moore  met  all  who  were  worth  seeing  in 
Florence.  His  susceptibility  to  sublime  emotions  is 
thus  unaffectedly  manifested  after  a  visit  to  the 
church  of  the  Annunziata : — "  Whether  it  be  my 
Popish  blood  or  my  poetical  feelings,  nothing  gives  me 
more  delight  than  the  '  pomp  and  circumstance '  of  a 
mass  in  so  grand  a  church;  accompanied  by  fine 
music,  and  surrounded  by  such  statuary  and  such 
paintings,  it  is  a  most  elevating  spectacle." 

And  now  the  traveller  reaches  Rome,  the  ever- 
longed-for  goal  of  all  sentimental  pilgrims.  Here 
Lady  Davy,  who,  's\dth  the  Duchess  of  Devonshire, 
appears  to  have  shared  the  privilege  of  "  lionizing  " 
distinguished  English  visitors  about  the  Eternal  City, 


108  MEMOIRS   OF   MOORE. 

"  undertakes"  Moore,  whilst  Mr.  Canning  falls  to  the 
care  of  her  Grace. 

Nothing  can  be  more  fresh  and  entertaining  than 
the  record  of  his  stay  in  Rome.  The  mingled  naivete 
and  instinctive  good  taste  with  which  he  notes  his 
impressions,  coupled  with  his  frank  disavowal  of  all 
pretensions  to  knowledge  in  the  domain  of  high  art, 
remind  us  of  the  journal  of  John  Bell,  the  dis- 
tinguished anatomist  of  Edinburgh,  who  brought  to 
the  subject  something  of  the  same  healthy,  masculine 
judgment,  unassisted  by  much  previous  study.  But 
we  must  deny  ourselves  the  pleasure  of  giving 
extracts  from  these  lively  entries,  and  hasten  to  get 
the  poet  out  of  Italy  again,  or  we  shall  have  to  omit 
subsequent  matters  essential  to  our  sketch. 

He  makes  a  brief  halt  at  Florence,  where  he  is 
forced  to  consent  to  sit  to  Bartolini  for  his  bust,  partly 
at  the  instance  of  Chantrey,  who  wants  to  make  one 
also,  and  to  "  let  Moore  see  the  difference."  Whilst 
here.  Lady  Burghersh  communicated  to  him  some 
particulars  respecting  the  Empress  Maria  Louisa, 
with  whom  she  had  frequent  opportunities  of  inter- 
course, passing  some  time  with  her  at  her  Principality. 
Maria  Louisa,  it  seems,  "  loved  Napoleon  at  first ;  but 
his  rehutant  manner  to  her  diso^usted  her  at  last. 
Treated  her  like  a  mere  child;  her  regency  a  mere 
sham;  did  not  know  what  the  j)apers  were  she  had  to 
sign ;  never  had  either  message  or  line  from  Napoleon 
after  his  first  abdication,  nor  until  his  return  from 
Elba;  never  hears  from  him  at  St.  Helena,"  &c.  (Vol. 
iii.  p.  79.) 

Moore  arrives  once  more  in  Paris  about  the  close  of 
the  year  (1820);  and,  after  a  month  or  two,  spent  en 


MEMOIRS    OF   MOORE.  109 

garcon^  is  there  joined  by  his  wife  and  familj^,  occupy- 
ing a  kind  of  "rus  in  urbe"  in  a  suburb  of  Paris, 
called  then  'TAllee  des  Veuves."  During  the  period 
which  elapsed  between  their  establishing  themselves 
here  and  the  autumn  of  the  following  year  (rather 
more  than  eighteen  months),  Moore  divided  his  life 
between  Paris  delights  and  literary  composition ;  but 
candour  compels  us  to  own  that  the  portion  devoted 
to  dissipation  and  amusement  formed  by  far  the  laro-er 
one.  Nothing,  to  be  sure,  was  ever  like  it !  No 
wonder  he  originated  his  Epicurean  in  1820,  for 
he  now  exhibited  a  thorough  example,  in  his  own 
person,  of  one  who  makes  self-indulgence  his  main 
pursuit. 

With  every  disposition  to  extenuate  Moore's  incre- 
dible craving  for  excitement  and  company,  we  find  it 
difficult  to  excuse  this  incessant  gratification  of  it, 
otherwise  than  by  the  stale  and  well-worn  plea  of 
"  great  temptations."  Most  of  us  have  heard  of  those 
to  which  St.  Anthony  was  exposed,  and  which  we  are 
bound  to  believe  were  overpowering  in  their  nature, 
though  we  never  could  for  the  life  of  us  ascertain  in 
what  they  consisted.  But  the  Saint  could  hardly 
have  known  what  it  was  to  have  Vilamils,  Storys, 
Cannings,  Fieldings,  and  Washington  Irvings,  with 
Duchesses  de  Broglie,  Lucy  Drews,  and  the  like  sirens, 
all  turned  loose  upon  him,  with  their  various  seduc- 
tions, offering  the  cup  of  flattery  and  convivial  allure- 
ments (to  each  of  which  Moore  was  so  susceptible)  to 
his  acceptance.  One  cannot  answer  for  what  the 
result  of  such  trials  might  have  been  to  a  Saint,  but 
with  most  men  of  lively  temperament,  in  the  j^rime  of 
life  and  health,  dwelling  under  a  delicious  sky,  re- 


liO  MEMOIRS    OF   MOORE. 

sistance  would  probably  have  been  but  ineffectually 
attempted. 

The  Paris  episode,  however,  after  all  that  can  be 
urged,  leaves  a  grave  feeling  of  regret  that  Moore  was 
ever  drawn  into  so  mischievous  a  vortex;  though 
there  were  occasions  when  his  time  was  more  worthily 
and  profitably  invested.  His  acquaintance  with 
Denon  led  to  some  not  infructuous  studies ;  whilst  the 
arrival  in  Paris  of  his  friends  Lord  and  Lady  Holland, 
around  whom  a  certain  intellectual  atmosphere  always 
gathered,  seems  to  have  strung  up  the  Poet's  mind  to 
a  healthier  tone  for  a  season,  as  the  altered  character 
of  the  "  entries  "  in  the  Diary  amply  attests. 

It  is  refreshing,  too,  amidst  the  whirl  of  daily  dissi- 
pation, to  find  how  tenderly  he  and  Mrs.  Moore 
continue  attached  to  each  other: — "25th  March,  182L 
This  day  ten  years  we  were  married,  and  though  Time 
has  made  his  usual  changes  in  us  both,  we  are  still 
more  like  lovers  than  any  married  couples  of  the  same 
standing  I  am  acquainted  with.  Asked  to  dine  at 
Rancliffe's,  but  dined  at  home  alone  with  Bessy,"  &c. 

Still,  if  justice  were  duly  done  upon  mortal  sinners, 
(which  it  rarely  is,  except  by  Baron  P.  .  .  ,),  Moore 
ought  to  have  been  sentenced,  on  his  return  to 
England,  to  a  six  months'  sojourn  in  Baker-street  or 
Torrington-square,  without  ever  going  to  the  j)lay, 
and  being  only  allowed  to  dine  abroad  once  a  month. 
At  the  end  of  such  a  probation  (supposing  him  to 
have  survived  its  rigours),  the  offender  might  have 
come  out  of  it,  if  somewhat  less  fascinating  and 
agreeable  than  before,  more  nearly  resembling  what, 
under  the  meridian  of  Greenwich  at  least,  it  is  con- 
ceived a  man  blessed  with  a  wife  and  children  ought 


MEMOIRS    OF    MOORE.  Ill 

to  be.  But  it  is  far  from  certain  that  he  would  have 
been  permitted  to  preserve  this  reformed  character  by 
his  numerous  soliciting  friends. 

The  Bermuda  defalcation  having  been  made  up,  as 
has  been  already  said,  partly  through  the  friendly  aid  of 
Lord  John  Russell  (Messrs.  Longman  advancing  the 
larger  portion  by  way  of  loan),  the  poet  and  his  little 
family  leave  Paris,  and  once  more  "  set  up  their  rest" 
(if  this  phrase  may  be  employed  in  connexion  with  so 
unquiet  a  spirit  as  his)  at  Sloperton  Cottage.  Shortly 
afterwards  the  Loves  of  the  Angels  came  forth,  for 
which  we  find  the  author  receiving  700/. ;  and  next 
the  Fables  of  the  Holy  Alliance^  so  that  we  can  scarcely 
accuse  him  of  not  working  diligently  at  this  time. 
Two  visits  to  London,  of  a  month  each,  succeed; 
during  which  his  life  was  one  incessant  course  of 
dining  out,  going  to  operas  and  plays,  parties,  balls, 
breakfasts,  and  so  forth.  His  social  reputation  was 
now  at  its  zenith,  and  the  fashionable  world  opened 
its  doors  to  him  as  to  a  privileged  being.  A  delight- 
ful tour  to  Killarney,  Cork,  and  other  places  in 
Ireland,  in  company  with  his  noble  friends  of  Bowood, 
enlivened  the  summer,  and  by  the  help  of  a  subsequent 
visit  to  Mr.  Benett,  at  Pyt-house,  and  the  amusing 
sale  of  Mr.  Beckford's  effects  at  Fonthill,  he  managed 
to  get  through  what  remained  of  the  year  1823,  in 
his  cottage  home,  contentedly  enough. 

Sheridan's  Life  was  the  task  on  which,  as  we  have 
stated  above,  Moore  habitually  and  earnestly  occupied 
himself;  that  is  to  say,  when  "  Phipps"  did  not  happen 
to  "  call  in  his  gig ;"  a  form  of  seduction  which, 
coupled  with  a  vision  of  a  dinner  at  the  inn  at  Devizes 
in  the  background,  rarely  failed  of  its  effect.     It  is 


112  MEMOIRS   OF   MOORE. 

beside  tlic  purpose  of  this  article  to  enter  upon  a 
critical  notice  of  Moore's  writings ;  yet  it  is  impossible 
to  allude  to  this  particular  work  without  observing 
that  in  it  he  is  justly  chargeable  with  misstatement  on 
more  than  one  point.  A  desire  to  drape  the  memory 
of  his  subject  (we  must  not  term  him  his  "  hero") 
with  a  plausible  interest,  had  led  him  to  cast  un- 
merited censure  upon  many  who  had  once  stood  in 
friendly  relationship  to  Sheridan.  It  is  now  pretty 
generally  understood  that  the  estrangement  which 
latterly  subsisted  between  the  Whig  party  and 
Sheridan  was  altogether  his  own  work.  After  the 
crowning  disgrace  of  his  always  discreditable  career 
— the  getting  by  adroit  management  a  sum  of 
4000/.  out  of  the  hands  of  the  party  in  whose  keep- 
ing it  was  deposited  by  the  Prince  Regent,  pending 
its  application  to  the  procuring  a  seat  in  Parliament 
for  Sheridan — he  appears  to  have  felt  it  impossible  to 
face  his  old  associates;  at  least  he  ever  after  avoided 
the  society  of  the  eminent  men  of  the  Liberal  party. 
It  never  could  be  said  that  they  neglected  him ;  they 
knew  nothing,  except  that  he  kept  aloof  from  them ; 
but  they  were  far  from  deaf  to  the  cry  of  perishing 
decay  when  at  length  Sheridan  permitted  it  to  reach 
their  ear.*  The  misplaced  sarcasms,  again,  with 
which  Moore  seasons  his  dramatic  detail  of  Sheridan's 
closing  days — sarcasms  levelled  at  certain  noble 
persons  who  did  violence  to  their  feelings  in  attend- 
ing his  funeral  rather  than  give  pain  to  his  widow — 
though  partially  retracted  in   his  preface  to  the  fifth 

*  Both  tlie  Duke  of  Bedford  and  Mr.  Canning,  Moore  afterwards 
affirms  (in  his  Diary),  scut  to  Sheridan  considerable  sums  witliin  a 
year  of  his  death. 


MEMOIRS    OF    MOORE.  113 

edition,  must  be  regarded  as  a  poor  device,  resorted 
to  by  way  of  turning  the  reader's  attention  from  the 
character  of  the  man,  and  fastening  it  upon  the  con- 
dition to  which  he  was  reduced  by  the  imputed  incon- 
stancy of  his  "  great"  friends. 

There  have  been,  perhaps,  few  examples  of  so  pro- 
digious an  abuse  of  the  disposition  in  human  nature 
to  tolerate  vices  and  defective  moral  feeling,  in  behalf 
of  brilliant  talents,  as  Sheridan's  character  and  con- 
duct  furnished.  That  there  should  be  a  limit,  beyond 
which  an  admiring  sympathy  could  not  secure  even 
him  against  disapprobation  and  contempt,  ought  to  be 
subject  for  gratulation,  not  for  querulous  complaint. 
But  a  biographer,  like  a  barrister,  feels  bound,  we 
presume,  to  present  the  best  case  he  can  for  his  client ; 
and  this  must  be  Moore's  apology.*  The  statement 
concerning  the  Prince's  indifference  was  not  less  un- 
founded; for  it  has  been  satisfactorily  shown  that 
George  IV.  entertained,  for  this  pitiable  wreck  of  a 
once  cherished  associate,  sentiments  more  kindly  than 
his  conduct  deserved;  and  further,  that  he  would 
gladly  have  mitigated  by  his  bounty  the  sufferings  he 
compassionated. 

The  book  we  are  speaking  of,  with  all  its  faults,  had 
also  great  merits,  and  was  (like  everything  Moore 
wrote,  indeed)  eagerly  welcomed  on  its  appearance  in 
the  autumn  of  1825. 

The  first  edition  sold  rapidly,  and  Moore  felt  him- 

*  In  confirmation  of  this  view  of  the  matter,  we  may  quote  a  passage 
from  a  book  recently  published : — "  On  my  complimenting  Moore," 
says  Sir  Eobert  Heron,  "  on  his  impartiality  in  the  Life  of  Sheridan, 
he  told  me  he  regretted  having  suppressed  many  facts,  and  repre- 
sented his  character  much  too  favourably."  {Notes,  2nd  ed.  1851, 
p.  254.) 

I 


114  MEMOIRS    OF   MOORE. 

self  relieved  of  a  load  of  obligation,  for  the  publishers 
were  generous  enough  to  superadd  the  sum  of  300^. 
to  the  original  price  of  the  copyright,  in  consequence 
of  the  extensive  sale  which  it  met  Avith  at  the  very 
outset.  A  tribute  of  admiration  from  Lord  John 
Russell,  on  reading  it,  is  thus  couched : — 

"I  am  all  astonisliment  at  the  extent  of  your  knowledge,  tlie  sound- 
ness of  your  political  views,  and  the  skill  with  which  you  contrive  to 
keep  clear  of  tiresomeness,  when  the  subject  seems  to  invite  it 

"  I  dined  at  Wimbledon  yesterday,  and  all  the  Spencers  sang  chorus 
in  praise  of  your  book."     (Vol.  iv.  p.  323.) 

When  we  run  our  eye  over  the  entries  in  Moore's 
Diary ^  we  are  apt  to  take  comparatively  little  heed  of 
those  which  relate  purely  to  work.  Yet  they  really 
are  numerous,  though  a  fortnight  is  commonly  in- 
cluded in  a  line;  such  as  "  3rd  to  17th.  At  work;" 
"  Rest  of  this  month  hard  at  work."  Hence  we  are 
unconsciously  led  to  regard  the  labour  as  nothing  in 
the  scale,  when  weighed  against  the  indulgence  of 
the  gregarious  propensity.  The  Diary^  in  fact,  taken 
in  its  general  character,  might  bear  to  be  prefaced  by 
an  inscription  which  we  remember  to  have  read  upon 
a  sun-dial  near  Padua,  "  Horas  non  numero  nisi 
Serenas." 

As  a  hohday,  after  being  so  hard  at  work,  was  indis- 
pensable, Moore  rushes  off  to  Scotland,  and  pays  a  visit 
to  Sir  Walter  Scott  at  Abbotsford,  a  brief  account  of 
which  is  among  the  pleasantest  passages  in  the  book. 
Scott's  conversation  about  his  own  productions  is 
curious,  showing  that  he  rather  stumbled  upon  his 
talent  than  cultivated  it  originally.  "  Had  begun 
Waverley  long  before,  and  then  thrown  it  by,  until 
having  occasion  for  some  money  (to  help  liis  brother, 


MEMOIRS  OF    MOORE.  115 

I  think),  he  bethought  hhnself  of  it,  but  could  not 
find  the  MS."  (Vol.  iv.  p.  333.)  When  he  did, 
"made  3000/.  by  Waverley." 

Moore  goes  to  the  theatre  (need  we  say?)  at 
Edinburgh,  of  which  his  brother-in-law,  Murray,  was 
manager.  Jeffrey,  Sir  Walter,  and  Mr.  Thomson  are 
there  with  him.  The  enthusiasm  displayed  by  the 
audience  is  quite  extravagant  (for  us  Scotchmen), 
and  delights  Sir  "Walter,  who  exclaims,  "  This  is  quite 
right.  I  am  glad  my  countrymen  have  returned  the 
compliment  for  me." 

Moore  also  visits  Mr.  Jeffrey  at  Craigcrook.  On 
the  morrow  of  his  arrival,  he  writes : — 

"  After  breakfast,  sitting  with  Jeflfrey  in  his  beautiful  Httle  Gothic 
study,  he  told  me  at  much  length  his  opinion  of  my  Life  of  Sheridan. 

Thinks  it  a  work  of  great  importance  to  my  fame '  Here,' 

(said  Jeffrey)  '  is  a  convincing  proof  that  you  can  think  and  reason 
solidly  and  manfully,  and  treat  the  gravest  and  most  important  sub- 
jects in    a  manner  worthy  of  them I  am  of  opinion  that 

you  have  given  us  the  only  clear,  fair,  and  manly  account  of  the 
public  transactions  of  the  last  fifty  years  that  we  possess.'  "  (Vol,  v. 
p.  7.) 

On  his  return  from  Scotland,  Moore  is  called  to 
Dublin  by  the  illness  of  his  father,  who  expires  shortly 
subsequent  to  his  son's  arrival.  Through  the  kind- 
ness of  Messrs.  Longman,  who,  although  Moore  is  so 
heavily  in  debt  towards  the  firm,  permit  him  to  draw 
upon  them,  he  discharges  all  outstanding  obligations, 
defrays  expenses  of  his  father's  funeral,  and  supports 
his  mother  with  all  the  comforts  and  attentions  the 
occasion  calls  for.  The  Lord-Lieutenant  proposes  to 
arrange  that  the  half-pay  enjoyed  by  the  late  Mr. 
Moore  should  be  continued,  under  the  form  of  pension, 
to  his  daughter.  ]\Ioore  peremptorily  declines  the 
offer. 

I  2 


116  MEMOIRS    OF    MOORE. 

"All  this  is  very  kind  and  liberal  of  Lord  "Wellesley;  and  God 
knows  how  useful  such  an  aid  would  be,  as  God  alone  knows  how  I  am 
to  support  all  the  burthens  now  heaped  upon  me  ;  but  I  could  not  accept 
such  a  favour."  (Yol.  v.  p.  25.) 

It  would  seem  that  during  the  year  1826,  Moore's 
talent  for  facetious  and  satirical  verse-making  was 
placed  at  the  service  of  the  Times  newspaper,  and,  as 
has  ever  been  the  practice  witTi  that  Journal,  was 
amply  remunerated.  In  fact,  looking  on  the  one  hand 
at  the  large  sums  realized  by  everything  he  produced, 
and  on  the  other  at  the  very  modest  scale  on  which 
his  menage  was  conducted,  together  with  the  well- 
attested  frugality  and  self-denial  of  his  excellent 
partner,  we  have  found  it  difficult  to  explain  the  state 
of  chronic  insolvency  in  which  Moore  obviously  lived. 
His  children  were,  it  is  true,  always  ailing,  his  wife 
never  well.  But  then  their  medical  attendant.  Dr. 
Bi'abant  of  Devizes,  having  a  cordial^  sympathy  for 
genius  and  virtue  in  difficulties,  would  accept  no  fees. 
Moore  himself  seemed  to  have  had  no  expensive  habits, 
except  that  he  never  refused  himself  a  hack  post- 
chaise;  that  luxury  which  Dr.  Johnson  so  feelingly 
prized!  His  "junketings"  in  London  were  usually 
enjoyed  at  the  cost  of  others,  and^jhis  garret  to  sleep 
in  seems  to  have  constituted  almost  his  only  expense. 
The  solution  must  lie  in  the  fact  of  his  having  twice 
had  to  overtake  a  considerable  sum  by  his  unassisted 
exertions;  his  own  maintenance  and  that  of  his 
parents  needing  to  be  provided  at  the  same  time. 

The  history  of  the  gift,  sale,  and  ultimate  destruc- 
tion of  Lord  Byron's  Memoirs  has^.jbeen  so  much 
canvassed,  and  versions  so  various  have  circulated 
concerning  Moore's  conduct  on  the  occasion,  that  we 


MEMOIRS    OF   MOORE.  117 

are  thankful  to  find  much  circumstantial  information 
to  guide  us  to  a  safe  conclusion,  though  the  Diary 
contains  only  a  part  of  what  Moore  left  in  elucidation 
of  this  complex  affair.  The  rest  has  been  \Yithheld 
by  the  noble  editor,  and  we  are  bound  to  say  without, 
as  far  as  we  can  discover,  satisfactory  reasons  for  its 
suppression.  Enough  nevertheless  remains  where- 
with to  frame  an  accurate  summary  of  this  case — an 
indispensable  item  in  a  retrospective  sketch  of  the 
Poet's  life. 

The  Memoirs  were  given  to  him,  without  reserve, 
as  without  directions,  by  Lord  Byron;  but  were  un- 
questionably intended  partly  as  a  justification  of  him- 
self, and  partly  as  a  means  of  enriching  his  friend. 
Moore,  pressed  for  money  (as  usual),  made  over  the 
MSS.  to  Mr.  Murray  for  the  sum  of  2000  guineas. 
He  subsequently  modified  the  transaction  by  ordering 
a  clause  to  be  inserted  in  the  deed,  by  which  he, 
Moore,  should  have  the  option  of  redeeming  the 
Memoirs  within  three  months  of  Lord  Byron's 
death. 

When  that  unlooked-for  event  occurred,  in  1824, 
the  family  and  personal  friends  of  the  deceased  noble- 
man urgently  sought  to  possess  themselves  of  the 
manuscript,  with  a  view  to  its  destruction.  Moore, 
conceiving  that  in  yielding  it  up  for  that  purpose  he 
should  be  defeating  the  intentions  and  wishes  of  his 
friend,  demurs  to  the  request.  He  pleads  earnestly 
for  its  publication,  proposing  to  suppress  all  matter 
calculated  either  to  wound  the  feelino;s  of  livins^ 
persons,  or  to  shock  public  taste.  But  the  Byron 
family,  Mrs.  Leigh,  Sir  John  Hobhouse,  and  Mr. 
Wilmot  Horton,   are  inexorable;    and  so  much  im- 


118  MEMOIRS    OF    MOORE. 

portunity  is  addressed  both  to  Moore  and  Mr. 
Murray,  by  various  distinguished  parties,  that  they 
at  length  consent  to  place  the  Memoirs  in  the 
hands  of  Mr.  Horton  and  Colonel  Doyle,  as  the 
representatives  of  Mrs.  Leigh;  who  forthwith 
commit  the  same  to  the  flames  at  Mr.  Murray's 
house. 

Mr.  Murray,  of  course,  stipulates  to  be  repaid  his 
money  with  lawful  interest,  which  is  accordingly  done, 
by  a  draft  drawn  by  Moore  on  Mr.  Rogers.*  (Vol.  v. 
p.  224.)  Much  persuasion  is  used  to  induce  Moore 
to  accept  of  compensation  at  the  hands  of  the  Byron 
family — even  his  most  valued  friends,  such  as  Lord 
and  Lady  Lansdowne,  Mr.  Luttrell,  Lord  John 
Russell,  with  Mr.  Rogers  and  his  sister,  concur  in 
the  opinion  that  he  ought  to  do  so.  Moore's  high 
sense  of  self-respect  is,  however,  a  match  for  all,  and 
he  steadily  refuses.  Indeed,  for  some  time  after  the 
destruction  of  the  Memoirs^  his  mind  is  uneasy,  lest 
he  should  have  committed  an  act  of  constructive  dis- 
loyalty towards  his  departed  friend  and  benefactor. 
Ultimately  he  learns  from  Sir  John  Hobhouse  that 
Lord  Byron,  when  remonstrated  with  by  himself  as 
to  the  indiscretion  of  placing  such  a  MS.  out  of  his 
own  control,  had  replied,  "  that  he  regretted  having 
done  so,  and  that  delicacy  towards  Moore  alone 
deterred  him  from  reclaiming  it;"  on  this  Moore  is 
reassured,  and  whilst  regretting  the  loss  to  the  world, 
rests  satisfied  Avith  the  course  which  he   had  himself 


*  This  loan,  or  accommodation,  on  the  part  of  Mr.  Eogers,  was 
subsequently  repaid  out  of  tlie  profits  of  The  Loves  of  the  Angels 
and  Fables  of  the  Holy  Alliance,  (See  Preface  to  vol.  viii.  of 
Worhs.) 


MEMOIRS   OF   MOORE.  119 

pursued.  It  lias  been  objected,  that  at  the  time 
Moore  made  this  reluctant  cession,  the  Memoirs  were, 
strictly  speaking,  the  property  of  Mr.  Murray,  and 
that  Moore  had  consequently  no  claim  to  merit  in 
making  the  sacrifice ;  the  rather,  as  he  foresaw  that  a 
round  sum  might  hereafter  be  gained  by  his  becom- 
ing Lord  Byron's  biographer,  on  a  new  footing. 
The  truth  is  that,  by  the  negligence  of  the  draughts- 
man or  the  attorney,  the  clause  providing  for  the 
redemption  of  the  MSS.  by  Moore  was  not  inserted 
in  the  body  of  the  deed,  and  thus  the  property 
formally  remained  with  the  bookseller.  But  nobody 
was  cognisant  of  this  fact  till  after  the  deed  was 
virtually  cancelled  by  the  destruction  of  the  Memoirs; 
so  that  Moore's  proceeding  is  entitled  to  whatever 
credit  may  be  thought  to  attach  to  his  resigning  his 
share  in  them.  At  the  same  time,  Mr.  Murray  must 
be  held  to  have  acted  with  perfect  good  faith,  and 
strictly  business-like  correctness,  throughout  the 
affair.* 

A  contemporary  remarks  on  Moore's  cupidity  in 
his  dealings,  and  on  this  feature  of  his  character  a 
brief  commentary  seems  called  for.  "  The  warmest 
admirer  of  Moore's  talents,  we  apprehend,  cannot 
dissemble  from  himself  that  the  main  business  of  his 
life  was    to    '  keep  the  wolf  from   the  door.'     The 

*  There  occurs  at  page  345  of  vol.  iii.  the  following  passage,  which 
is  worth  quoting  in  reference  to  the  foregoing  transaction  : — 

"  April,  1822.  Ought  to  have  mentioned  that  soon  after  my  arrival 
I  spoke  to  Murray  upon  the  subject  of  Lord  B.'s  3Iemoirs  ;  of  my  wish 
to  redeem  them,  and  cancel  the  deed  of  sale,  which  Murray  acceded  to 
with  the  best  grace  imaginable.  Accordingly  there  is  an  agreement 
making  out,  by  which  I  become  his  debtor  for  2000  guineas,  leaving  the 

MSS.  in  his  hands  as  a  security,  till  I  am  able  to  pay  it I 

know  I  shall  feel  the  happier  when  rid  of  the  bargain." 


120  MEMOIRS    OF    MOORE. 

Steady  eye  which  he  kept  upon  every  transaction 
connected  with  literary  profit,  it  would  be  distasteful 
to  observe,  unless  we  bore  in  mind  the  anxieties 
which  he  habitually  endured  respecting  his  daily 
subsistence.  One  cannot  deny  that  he  read  but  to 
reproduce — that  he  listened  but  to  borrow — that  he 
caught  at  '  tunes'  to  work  up  into  '  melodies' — that 
he  sang  in  drawing-rooms  to  give  circulation  to  his 
wares.  Nay,  he  even  ransacks  his  Bible,  in  church, 
for  dramatic  subjects,  to  weave  into  musical  expres- 
sion; (finding  one  too,  in  Jeremiah,  of  all  authors!) 
in  short,  the  fact  is  clear  that  Moore's  thoughts 
mainly  alternated  between  his  amusements  and  the 
shop." 

But  the  public  ought  by  this  time  to  have  learnt 
(if  it  ever  cared  to  learn  anything  except  what  suited 
its  convenience),  that  the  greater  portion  of  the  labours 
of  literary  men,  even  some  of  the  highest  productions 
of  Genius,  have  been  extorted  from  their  authors  by 
the  pressure  of  necessity. 

It  would  appear  invidious  to  run  over  the  long 
catalogue  of  gifted  writers  from  whose  pen  and  brain 
little  would  ever  have  descended  to  us  but  for  the 
temptation  offered  by  money  gains;  large  or  small  as 
the  case  might  be.  The  class  of  men  who  are 
mentally  qualified  to  produce,  are  commonly  more 
disposed  to  enjoy  than  to  work,  and  hence  it  is  that, 
Avith  a  few  remarkable  exceptions,  we  owe  the  great 
mass  of  our  literature  to  the  necessitous  student. 
Even  our  greatest  poet  of  the  century.  Lord  Byron, 
confessed  that  but  for  the  sake  of  gaining  money  he 
should  be  too  lazy  to  write  poetry  requiring  eftbrt. 
No,  the  rare  endowments  which  are  fitted  to  contribute 


MEMOIRS    OF   MOORE.  121 

to  the  delight  of  our  fellow  men  are  seldom  brought 
forward  by  any  inducements  except  those  of  profit; 
nor,  in  fact,  will  their  possessors  be  persuaded  to  go 
through  the  severe  probation  needed  in  order  to  shine 
in  any  sphere  of  art,  if  blessed  with  fortune  and  the 
means  of  living  at  ease. 

The  following  extracts  will  afford  a  sample  of  the 
familiar  conversation  of  Bowood,  where  Moore  was  now 
continually  a  guest : — 

"  1824.  Oct.  23rd.  Dined  at  Bowood :  company,  Grosetts  and 
Clutterbucks,  Mrs.  Clutterbuck  looking  very  pretty.  Clutterbuck's 
story  of  the  old  lady  (his  aunt)  excellent.  Being  very  nervous,  she 
told  Sir  W.  Farquhar  she  thought  Bath  would  do  her  good.  '  It's  very 
odd,'  says  Sir  W.,  '  but  that's  the  very  thing  I  was  going  to  recom- 
mend to  you.  I  will  write  the  particulars  of  your  case  to  a  very 
clever  man  there,  in  whose  hands  you  will  be  well  taken  care  of.'  The 
lady,  furnished  with  the  letter,  sets  oflf,  and  on  arriving  at  Newbury, 
feeling,  as  usual,  very  nervous,  she  said  to  her  confidant,  '  Long  as  Sir 
Walter  has  attended  me,  he  has  never  explained  to  me  what  ails  me. 
I  have  a  great  mind  to  open  his  letter  and  see  what  he  has  stated  of 
my  case  to  the  Bath  physician.'  In  vain  her  friend  represented  to  her 
the  breach  of  confidence  this  would  be.  She  opened  the  letter,  and  read, 
*  Dear  Davis,  keep  the  old  lady  three  weeks,  and  send  her  back  again.'" 

"1825.  Jan.  3rd.  Walked  over  to  Bowood :  company.  Mackintosh 
and  his  daughter,  Mr.  and  Mrs.  Yernon  Smith  and  Lewson  Smith. 

A  good  deal  of  conversation  about  Burke  in  the  evening. 

Mentioned  his  address  to  the  British  colonists  in  North  America. 
'  Armed  as  you  are,  we  embrace  you  as  our  friends  and  as  our  brothers, 
by  the  best  and  dearest  ties  of  relation.'  The  tone  of  the  other  parts, 
however,  is,  I  find,  moderate  enough.  Burke  was  of  opinion  that 
Hume,  if  he  had  been  alive,  would  have  taken  the  side  of  the  French 
Eevolution.  Dugald  Stewart  thinks  the  same.  The  grand  part  of 
Burke's  life  was  between  1772  and  the  end  of  the  American  war; 
afterwards  presumed  upon  his  fame  and  let  his  imagination  run  away 
with  him.  Lord  Charlemont  said  that  Burke  was  a  Whig  upon  Tory 
principles.  Fox  said  it  was  lucky  that  Burke  and  Windham  took  the 
side  against  the  French  Eevolution,  as  they  would  have  got  hanged  on 
the  other.  Windham's  speech  on  Curwen's  motion  for  Eeform — an 
ingenious  defence  of  parliamentary  corruption — like  the  pleading  of  a 
sophist.  Burke  gave  the  substance  of  the  India  Bill,  and  Pigot  drew 
it  up." 


122  MEMOIRS    OF   MOORE. 

"  1833.  Feb.  6tli.  An  excellent  mot  of  somebody  to  Fontenelle,  on 
the  latter  saying  that  he  flattered  himself  he  had  a  good  heart, — '  Yes, 
my  dear  Fontenelle,  you  have  as  good  a  heart  as  can  be  made  out  of 
brains.' 

"  In  talking  with  Hallam  afterwards,  I  put  it  to  him  why  it  was  that 
this  short  way  of  expressing  truths  did  not  do  with  the  world,  often 
as  it  had  been  tried,  even  Eochefoucauld  being  kept  alive  chiefly  by  his 
ill-nature  P  There  was  in  this  one  saying  to  Fontenelle  all  that  I  my- 
self had  expended  many  pages  on  in  my  Life  of  Byron,  endeavouring 
to  bring  it  out  clearly ;  namely,  the  great  difference  there  is  between 
that  sort  of  sensibility  which  is  lighted  up  in  the  heads  and  imagina- 
tion of  men  of  genius,  and  the  genuine  natural  sensibility  whose  seat 
is  in  the  heart.  Even  now  in  thus  explaining  my  meaning,  how  many 
superfluous  words  have  I  made  use  of?  Talking  of  the  Brahmins 
being  such  good  chess-players  (nobody,  it  seems,  can  stand  before 
them  at  the  game),  Mrs.  Hastings'  naivete  was  mentioned,  in  saying, 
'  Well,  people  talk  a  good  deal  about  the  Brahmins  playing  well,  but 
I  assure  you  Mr.  Hastings,  who  is  very  fond  of  chess,  constantly 
plays  those  who  come  to  the  Government  House,  and  always  beats 
them.' " 

For  three  editions  of  the  Epicurean  (which  first 
came  out  in  1827),  Messrs.  Longman,  we  find,  credited 
the  author  700^.  In  1828  Mr.  Murray  finally  con- 
cludes a  bargain  with  him  to  write  a  Life  of  Lord 
Byron^  for  which  he  is  to  receive  4000  guineas. 
Moore  begins  this  in  February,  after  having  paid  a 
visit  to  Newstead  Abbey,  and  to  Colwich,  the  residence 
of  Mrs.  Musters  (formerly  Miss  Chaworth),  with  whom 
he  conversed  respecting  Byron,  as  he  has  related  in 
the  Life.  The  usual  gaddings,  excursions,  and 
pleasure-hunting  characterise  these  years,  the  record 
of  which  is,  however,  interspersed  with  amusing  notes 
of  conversations,  held  chiefly  at  Holland  House  and 
Bowood ;  often  valuable,  though  brief,  from  the  light 
they  shed  upon  transactions  regarding  which  public 
channels  of  information  have  been  of  necessity  im- 
perfect ones.  Many  little  touches  reveal  the  state  of 
political  parties,  too,  in  a  way  no  out-of-doors  organ 


MEMOIRS   OF   MOORE.  123 

could  possibly  do.  The  ill-assorted  combinations  of 
1826-27-28,  which  succeeded  on  the  break-up  of  Tory 
ascendancy,  are  curiously  commented  upon ;  and  some 
good  stories  also  find  a  place  in  the  Diary. 

The  sixth  volume  opens  with  1829,  and  the  death 
of  his  amiable  daughter  Anastasia,  which  plunged 
both  her  fond  parents  into  deep  affliction.  The 
notices  of  the  Life  of  Byron  came  out  in  the  follomng 
year,  after  which  Moore  set  to  work  to  collect 
materials  for  that  of  Lord  Edward  Fitzgerald;  in 
fact,  he  seems  to  have  been  more  than  commonly  in- 
dustrious about  this  time.  He  and  his  wife  made  a 
journey  to  Ireland  in  August,  mainly  on  this  errand, 
but  also  to  visit  Moore's  mother  once  more.  At  a 
great  meeting  of  from  two  to  three  thousand  people, 
Moore  being  induced  to  make  a  speech  on  the  subject 
of  the  late  French  Revolution  of  "the  three  days" 
(Bessy  present  among  the  auditors),  it  proved  one  of 
the  happiest  efforts  in  oratory  that  he  ever  essayed. 

"  From  this  on  to  tlie  end  my  display  was  most  successful,  and  the 
consciousness  that  every  word  told  on  my  auditory,  reacted  upon  me 
with  a  degree  of  excitement  which  made  me  feel  capable  of  anything. 
The  shouts,  the  applause,  the  waving  of  hats,  &c.,  after  I  had 
finished,  lasted  for  some  minutes.  I  heard  Shell,  too,  as  I  concluded, 
say,  with  much  warmth,  'he  is  a  most  beautiful  speaker!'  "  (Vol.  vi. 
p.  140.) 

The  enthusiasm  felt  for  Moore  by  his  countrymen 
is,  indeed,  universal,  and  proclaimed ;  and  many  of  his 
admirers  endeavoured  to  persuade  him  to  try  for  a 
seat  in  Parliament  for  some  Irish  constituency.  This 
temptation,  which  is  renewed  after  his  return  to 
Sloperton,  he  steadily  resists  (although  his  inclination 
would  have  strongly  urged  him  to  accept  the  offer), 
on  the  ground  of  his  utter  want  of  fortune. 


124  MEMOIRS    OF   MOORE. 

Of  "  adventures"  there  are,  properly  speaking,  none 
in  the  whole  six  volumes;  Moore's  movements  being 
chiefly  from  Devizes  to  Bath,  from  Bath  to  Farley, 
from  Farley  to  Lay  cock,  from  Laycock  to  Bo  wood,  and 
so  on, — much  after  the  style  of  Major  Sturgeon's 
campaigns.  But  although  his  person  revolved  in  a 
limited  orbit,  his  mental  activity,  and  frequent  unre- 
served commerce  with  the  class  in  whose  hands  the 
government  of  the  nation  was  now  vested,  caused  him 
to  feel  no  want  of  more  enlarged  experience  of  the 
world.  Indeed  the  privilege  which  he  enjoyed,  of 
intimate  and  habitual  intercourse  with  the  Marquis  of 
Lansdowne,  was  of  itself  an  equivalent,  or  more  than 
an  equivalent,  for  a  wide  range  of  ordinary  social 
advantages. 

Moore's  political  feelings  partook  all  through  life  of 
the  early  impressions  derived  from  his  boyish  con- 
nexion with  certain  friends  Avho  were  forward  in  the 
organization  of  Irish  resistance  to  the  Government  in 
1795-96.  Though  a  mere  youth,  his  ardent  attach- 
ment to  Ireland  led  hira  to  yield  the  fullest  sympathy 
to  those  efforts,  and  from  that  period  downwards  he 
never  spoke  or  wrote  about  his  native  country  save  in 
a  strain  of  mournful  resentment.  He  was  himself, 
whilst  a  college  student,  subjected  to  an  examination 
before  the  formidable  Chancellor  Fitzgibbon,  and  dis- 
played a  self-]30ssession,  we  might  even  say  an  heroic 
fidelity  to  his  associates,  highly  praiseworthy  in  one 
so  young.  The  scene  is  related  in  the  first  vol.  of 
the  present  publication,  and  repeated  by  Moore  in 
the  preface  to  his  Works  in  ten  vols.  1840.  His 
Letters  of  Captain  Hock  likewise  displayed  his 
views  and  feelings  on  Irish  politics.     But  although  he 


MEMOIRS    OF    MOORE.  125 

held  opinions  of  a  strongly  democratic  cast,  lie  seems 
to  have  been  less  cordial  in  his  wishes  for  reform  in 
Parliament  in  1831-32  than  might  have  been  ex- 
pected. This  is  to  be  ascribed  partly,  as  he  confesses, 
to  his  having  reached  the  age  of  fifty  before  the 
Reform  movement  became  effectual,  and  partly  to 
his  comparatively  slender  interest  in  English  politics, 
with  which  he  rarely  meddled,  whilst  with  Irish 
affairs  he  maintained  a  constant  sympathy.  (See  his 
Letter  to  Electors  of  Limerick,  vol.  iv.  p.  305.)  The 
"wrongs  of  Ireland"  lay  at  the  bottom  of  his  heart, 
and  tinged  his  views  on  most  public  questions.  It  is 
honourable  both  to  himself  and  to  his  noble  associates, 
that  Moore's  extreme  opinions,  though  openly  main- 
tained and  ably  defended,  never  interrupted  the 
friendly  relations  in  which  he  lived  with  the  leading 
statesmen  of  the  Liberal  party.  His  out-spoken 
objections  to  the  course  pursued  by  the  Whig  Govern- 
ment, after  1831,  towards  Ireland,  would  infallibly 
have  offended  any  minister  but  the  nobleman  who 
bore  him  a  friendship  so  warm  as  to  be  proof  against 
the  shocks  of  dissent  when  coming  from  his  privileged 
neighbour. 

A  recent  newspaper  criticism  has  laboured  to  fasten 
upon  Moore  the  imputation  of  having  "  dangled  upon 
the  great;" — one  more  groundless  could  scarcely  be 
adduced.  "  The  great"  ran  after  Moore,  not  he  after 
the  great.  If  there  be  one  fact  more  abundantly 
attested  than  another  by  the  Diary  it  is  this.  And 
among  the  rare  instincts  which  his  nature  revealed 
was  the  perception  of  that  nice  medium  between 
familiarity  and  humility  of  demeanour,  which  he  so 
admirably  hit  in  his  intercourse  with  the  nobility  of 


126  MEMOIRS  OF   MOORE. 

both  sexes.  He  was  treated  like  a  spoiled  child;  yet 
he  conducted  himself  like  a  well-bred  man.  He  might 
assuredly  feel  a  pride  in  reflectino;  that  he  could  reckon 
among  his  intimate  friends  the  names  of  Walter  Scott, 
Samuel  Rogers,  Crabbe,  Bowles,  Sydney  Smith,  Lord 
Byron,  Fmncis  Jeffrey,  Lord  Holland,  Luttrell,  Lord 
John  Russell,  Lord  and  Lady  Lansdowne,  with  those 
of  other  eminent  and  estimable  persons  of  both  sexes ; 
and  he  did  feel  it.  But  no  one,  we  venture  to  affirm, 
could  charge  Moore  with  presuming  upon  the  favour 
with  which  they  regarded  him.  What  he  seems  to  be 
most  severely  reproached  with  is,  having  been  in- 
wardly elated,  flattered, — made  happy,  in  short,  by  it. 
On  this  manner  of  construing  the  revelations  com- 
prised in  these  volumes,  we  will,  even  at  the  risk  of 
appearing  sermonic  and  tedious,  venture  to  offer  some 
remarks. 

The  general  reader  of  memoirs  seems  to  require 
before  all  things,  the  gratification  of  his  curiosity. 
But  one  would  think  that,  this  primary  object  being 
attained,  the  next  would  be  to  acquire  an  accurate 
knowledge  of  the  inward  mind  and  thoughts  of  the 
author,  particularly  if  he  be  a  person  of  eminent  and 
renowned  character;  and  so  it  is  in  a  measure,  for 
everybody  takes  pleasure  in  diving  into  the  soul  of 
genius,  and  prying  into  the  laboratory  of  a  poet's 
fancy.  If,  however,  the  writer  record  for  posthumous 
publication  feelings  which  he  would  or  ought  to  have 
dissembled  during  life,  such  is  the  inveterate,  the  all- 
puissant  influence  of  conventional  habits,  that,  instead 
of  thanking  him  for  his  candour  and  veracity, 
the  public  positively  blame  him  for  not  disguising 
his  genuine  emotions,  for  not  counterfeiting  to  pos- 


MEMOIRS    OF    MOORE.  127 

terity  indiiference  both  to  high  reputation  and  to 
homage  from  his  fellow-creatures.  The  very  quality 
which  is  understood  to  bestow  a  value  on  autobiography 
— viz.,  the  presenting  the  writer's  real  mind  and 
thoughts  to  the  reader, — is  lost  sight  of  in  the  abhor- 
rence which  the  public  entertain  for  what  they  term 
"ridiculous  personal  vanity!"  They  shrink  from 
everything  which  is  not  disguised  and  "  dressed  up," 
— from  the  real  mind,  as  from  the  naked  body.  The 
public  have,  indeed,  so  long  and  peremptorily  prohi- 
bited all  external  signs  of  self-satisfaction,  or  self-love, 
that  at  length  they  have  come  to  believe  in  the  Latin 
apophthegm,  that  what  does  not  appear^  does  not 
exist;  and  thus,  when  an  idol  is  caught  in  the  fact, 
through  his  private  closet  avowals,  they  regard  him 
as  a  rare  instance  of  depraved  morals,  and  fall  to 
abusing  him  as  such.  For  in  our  artificial  society, 
everything  is  made  to  give  way  to  conventional  forms 
and  usages,  and  neither  mind  nor  matter  dare  wander 
beyond  the  prescribed  despotic  circle. 

To  be  sure,  if  a  writer  of  autobiography  has  died  in 
want  and  misery,  \ihis  vanity  have  been  never  so  mis- 
placed, offensive,  or  egregious,  we  can  afford  to  be 
more  indulgent ;  the  mortification  and  humiliation  he 
has  endured  have  the  effect  of  neutralizing  the  ascetic 
element  within  us,  and  we  feel  comforted,  as  it  were,  by 
the  spectacle  of  expiatory  justice.  But  let  not  the  suc- 
cessful or  happy  man  lift  the  veil,  and  reveal  the 
pleasure  with  which  a  life  of  labour  and  poverty  was 
sweetened  when  he  was  praised,  flattered,  and  loved 
by  his  contemporaries.  In  vain  would  his  apologists 
plead  that  vanity,  under  profuse  homage,  is  at  once 
natural,  just,  and  innocuous.     Our  excellent  comma- 


128  MEMOIRS    OF    MOORE. 

nity  seldom  travel  so  far  as  the  domain  of  ethics  for 
their  standard  of  judgment.  They  take  a  shorter  cut ; 
what  they  dislihe  is  odious  and  reprehensible,  and  the 
converse, — and  from  this  there  is  no  appeal. 

A  great  deal  has  been  said,  also,  respecting  Moore's 
neglect  of  his  domestic  hearth;  so  much,  indeed,  that 
it  would  be  unbecoming,  in  presenting  even  this 
slender  portraiture  of  the  man,  to  pass  over  such  a 
feature  in  silence.  He  certainly  enjoyed  mingling 
with  his  friends  and  acquaintance  when  his  work  was 
done — sometimes,  indeed,  when  it  was  not  done — and 
it  is  not  disguised  in  the  pages  before  us  that  Mrs. 
Moore  felt  his  frequent  absences  from  home.  On  the 
other  hand,  it  should  be  borne  in  mind  that,  whereas 
cerebral  labour,  especially  that  of  the  inventive 
faculty,  exhausts  the  individual  more  than  any  other 
occupation,  so  it  is  of  the  last  importance  to  him  to 
seek  occasional,  even  frequent,  renovation  by  some 
external  agency.  The  spirit-stirring  action  of 
pleasant  and  distinguished  society,  the  expansion  of 
his  peculiarly  happy  talent  for  conversation,  the  ex- 
ercise of  his  almost  magical  gift  of  touching  the  feel- 
ings by  musical  expression* — all  these  recreated  the 
man,  and  replenished  the  springs  of  those  powers  by 
means  of  which  the  poor  ^:>6'6^  was  expected  to  produce 
his  page  of  the  morrow.  The  physician,  the  lawyer, 
the  minister,  the  sharebroker,  the  soldier,  and  others, 
necessarily  pass  their  lives  from  home,  a  return  to 

*  No  person  was  ever  gifted  with  a  more  perfect  organization  for 
music  than  the  deceased  Irish  bard.  Had  he  received  a  thoroughly- 
sound  musical  education,  it  is  diflicult  to  say  whether  he  might  not 
have  produced  some  great  composition  as  gorgeous  in  melody  and 
harmony  as  the  Eastern  imagery  of  his  Lalla  Rookh. — Ella,  Musical 
Sketches,  1853. 


MEMOIRS    OF    MOORE.  129 

which  constitutes  a  welcome  change  and  relief.  But 
the  laborious  man  of  letters  spends  his  working  hours 
alone,  in  silence  within  his  own  four  walls ;  when  the 
sand  of  his  intellectual  hourglass  has  run  out,  he 
needs  variety,  and  the  reviving  influences  afforded  by 
social  and  festive  pleasures.  If  the  Irish  tempera- 
Jiient  happen  to  be  superadded,  the  want  is,  by  so 
much,  intensified.  Again,  the  strongest  endeavours 
were  used  to  prevail  on  Mrs.  Moore  to  accompany  her 
husband  into  the  world;  to  Bowood  especially,  the 
house  at  which  he  was  the  most  frequently  himself  a 
guest,  Moore  often  strove  to  persuade  her  to  accept 
Lord  and  Lady  Lansdowne's  many  cordial  invitations, 
but  to  little  purpose.  We  cannot  wonder  at  this. 
]\Irs.  Moore  wanted  the  inclination  to  miji  in  the 
society  of  persons  with  whom  she  had  no  familiar 
acquaintance,  and  she  was  too  proud  (Moore  says)  to 
be  at  her  ease  with  such  as  she  knew  and  felt  to  be 
her  superiors  in  birth  and  education,  though  not  in 
personal  beauty  or  native  talent.  And  farther,  she 
could  afford  neither  fine  clothes  nor  carriage;  she 
was  the  habitual  nurse-mother  to  sickly  children, 
whilst  her  own  health  gave  her  but  too  frequent  cause 
for  failino;  her  social  eno-ao-ements.  Thus  Moore  must 
have  gone  into  company  without  her  or  stayed  by 
her  side;  an  alternative  which,  as  a  rule  of  conduct, 
both  he  and  Mrs.  Moore  knew  and  felt  to  be  far  from 
advantageous  to  either,  however  glad  he  might  feel 
to  fly  back  to  it  when  the  needful  stimulus  was  over. 
Moore  might  be  said  to  belong  to  a  numerous  "  pro- 
prietar}',"  among  whom  his  wife  unquestionably  held 
the  greatest  number  of  "  shares."  But  Mrs.  Moore 
had  far  too  much  sense  and  feeling  to  wish  or  expect 

K 


130  MEMOIRS   OF   MOORE. 

to  monopolise  so  gifted,  so  mercurial  a  being.  She 
was,  nevertheless,  throughout  life,  the  chief  object  of 
his  tender,  admiring  affection,  as  Avell  as  of  his  grate- 
ful esteem;  and  this  must  have  consoled  her  (as  it  has 
doubtless  done  other  women,  also  united  to  men  of 
genius)  for  not  being  the  whole  and  sole  occupant  of 
a  large,  impressionable  heart,  and  a  restless  imagina- 
tion. 

The  duties  of  editorship  of  these  volumes  have  been 
apparently  limited  by  Lord  John  Kussell  to  the  hand- 
ing over  the  manuscript  to  the  printer  (after  making 
a  tolerably  free,  though  insufficient  use,  we  think,  of 
the  scissors),  and  the  composing  a  friendly  introduc- 
tion to  the  first  and  sixth  volumes.  What  additional 
value  might  have  been  imparted  to  the  book  by 
judicious  commentary  and  interpretation,  we  Avill  not 
inquire  too  curiously;  since,  if  a  man  will  have  a 
minister  of  the  Crown,  and  nothing  less,  for  his 
executor,  it  is  not  to  be  expected  that  his  "  remains" 
should  be  so  expertly,  or  so  carefully,  prepared  for 
publication  as  by  a  practised  literary  hand. 

But  it  has  been  remarked,  and  we  think  justly, 
that  some  key  ought  to  have  been  furnished  to  the 
numerous  acquaintances  in  whose  society  Moore 
passed  so  much  of  his  time  in  the  country.  It  would 
have  been  easy  to  append,  in  foot-notes  or  otherwise, 
a  slight  indication  of  their  personal  history,  and 
their  provincial  standing  and  connexion,  and  thus 
have  enabled  us  to  follow  with  greater  interest  the 
records  of  many  happy  days  spent  among  "Houltons," 
"Fieldings,"  "Douglasses,"  "Smiths,"  "  Phipps's," 
"  Storys,"  and  others,  whose  names  figure  so  promi- 
nently in  the  Diary.      Whilst  neglecting  to  supply 


MEMOIRS   OF   MOORE.  131 

useful  information  such  as  this,  the  noble  editor 
thought  fit  to  insert  a  note  which  has  had  the  effect 
of  involving  him  in  an  acrimonious  correspondence 
with  an  eminent  literary  character,  wherein,  we 
regret  to  own,  the  latter  seems  to  us  to  have  the 
advantage  over  his  Lordship. 

The  "  note"  in  question  was,  in  truth,  a  gratuitous 
personal  sarcasm  against  Mr.  Croker :  and  the  manner 
in  which  this  has  been  repelled  certainly  leaves  both 
Lord  John  and  his  friend  Thomas  Moore  on  lower 
ground  than  it  is  at  all  agreeable  to  us  to  see  them 
occupy. 

It  would  also  have  been  a  useful  exercise  of  edito- 
rial industry,  had  Lord  John  afforded  us  some 
explanation  respecting  Moore's  sudden  change  of 
tone  towards  the  Eegent :  passing  from  the  relation 
of  almost  familiar  intimacy  to  an  attitude  of  hostility. 
Moore  gives  none  himself,  whilst  his  disappointment 
in  not  going  to  India  with  Lord  Moira  occurred,  not 
before,  but  after,  he  had  assailed  the  Regent  with 
such  felicitous  acerbity. 

Still,  notwithstanding  these  deficiencies,  the  book, 
as  it  stands,  will  be  gladly  accepted  as  a  microcosm 
of  a  social  world  concerning  which  tradition  is  be- 
coming daily  less  and  less  distinct,  and  whose  parallel, 
it  is  probable,  will  never  be  reproduced;  whilst  those 
individuals  who  are  yet  living,  and  who  took  part  in 
it,  will  find  many  a  delightful  reminiscence  of  bygone 
days  preserved  in  the  pages  of  one  of  their  most 
brilliant,  as  well  as  most  popular,  contemporaries. 
Some  excellently  engraved  "illustrations"  confer  a 
welcome  additional  attraction  on  the  work. 


k2 


SOME    ACCOUNT 


OP 


THE  HA]\ILET 

OF 

EAST     BURN  HAM: 

C0.  §tttliS. 

BY  A  LATE  RESIDENT. 


PREFACE. 


The  following  pages  contain  what  to  many  readers 
may  appear  prosaic  and  tedious  details  of  a  purely 
local  character.     To  some  others  they  will  offer  an 
interest,  as  affording  a  glance  into  the  inner  relations 
which  subsist  between  the  humbler  members  of  the 
rural  population,  and  the  owners  of  the  land  which 
they   till.      In   the   picture    I   have   endeavoured  to 
present  of  the  hamlet  in  question,  a  general  sketch  of 
the  past  and  present  condition  of  the  peasantry  will 
be  found,  together  with  a  view  of  the  general  bearings 
of  the  relation  between  rich  and  poor,  and  the  effects 
of  one  or  other  course  of  conduct  on  the  part  of  the 
former  class;  I  trust  with  no  invidious  or  prejudiced 
statements,  or   partial    colouring.      Entertaining    a 
deep  interest  in  the  welfare  of  the  Avorking  people,  I 
have  studied  their  modes  of  feeling  with  attention ; 
and  feel  persuaded  that  the  best  forms  of  beneficence 
consist  in  encouraging  domestic  virtues  and  whole- 
some instincts  among  them,  and  in  fortifying  their 
respect  for  those  who  of  necessity  control  their  collec- 


130  rnEFACE. 

tive  social  destiny.  In  connexion  with  these  views, 
I  have  thought  it  not  an  idle  employment  to  trace  the 
mutations  of  ownership,  and  the  personal  history  of 
the  place,  as  well  as  to  depict  the  moral  and  social 
aspects  of  an  obscure  district  of  my  county.*  Let 
me  hope  that  some  of  those  who  may  honour  my 
little  work  with  a  perusal,  will  learn  from  it  to 
appreciate  the  utility,  if  not  the  duty,  of  attending  to 

"  The  short  and  simple  annals  of  the  poor." 

H.  G. 

Nov.  1858. 


*  I  say  advisedly  "  my  county,"  for  my  ancestors  belonged  to  it 
two  centuries  since,  residing  at  Middle  Claydon  and  Steeple  Claydon, 
Bucks,  up  to  the  beginning  of  the  present  century. 


SOME  ACCOUNT 


THE    HAMLET  OF   EAST  BURNHAM, 


The  Hamlet  of  East  Burnham  is  situated  about 
half-way  between  Beaconsfield  on  the  north  and 
Slough  on  the  south.  The  land  and  houses — the 
far  larger  portion,  at  least — were  for  centuries  the 
property  of  one  family,  the  last  male  member  of  which 
died  at  East  Burnham  as  long  ago  as  the  year  1810. 
Up  to  a  recent  period  few  visitors  ever  wandered  into 
this  hamlet,  unless  it  were  now  and  then  a  sportsman. 
The  old  forest,  called  "  Burnham  Beeches,"  composed 
chiefly  of  aged  and  hollow-trunked  trees,  forms  a 
part  of  the  Manor  of  "  AUards"  (otherwise  East 
Burnham),  in  which  the  scattered  hamlet  is  situated, 
and  a  wild  open  heath,  called  East  Burnham  Common, 
adjoins  the  same.  But  a  small  number  of  persons 
seem  to  have  known  anything  of  this  picturesque 
tract,  although  the  poet  Gray  speaks  of  it  in  his 
letters;*  the  road  communicating  between  Windsor 
and  Beaconsfield — never  much  travelled — passing  at 

*  Mr.  Gray  used  often  to  ramble  into  this  forest  from  Sloke 
Poges,  and  compose  poetry  therein.  Some  of  the  lines  in  his 
Elegy  may  fairly  be  taken  as  descriptive  of  the  scenery  of  this 
Bpot. 


138  SOME   ACCOUNT   OF 

some  distance  from  it;  but  after  the  year  1840,  when 
the  raih'oad  came  into  use,  the  neighbourhood  became 
somewhat  more  resorted  to,  and  the  "  Burnham 
Beeches,"  hitherto  almost  a  sylvan  solitude,  gradually 
became  the  favourite  resort  of  summer  pleasure- 
parties  from  the  surrounding  districts.  Tourists  and 
book-makers  likewise  began  to  talk  of  this  singular 
and  picturesque  spot,  so  that  now  there  probably  are 
few  persons  residing  within  twenty  miles  of  the 
"  Burnham  Beeches"  who  have  not  either  visited  or 
heard  of  them.  The  ancient  tradition  of  the  locality 
has  it,  that  the  Beeches  were  pollarded  by  the  Par- 
liament army,  which  encamped  here  during  the  civil 
wars  of  Charles  I.  That  they  ever  were  pollarded 
at  all  has,  however,  been  doubted.  Be  this  as  it  may, 
the  appearance  of  the  trees  is  precisely  such  as  would 
be  presented  had  they  been  subjected  to  that  process 
in  the  year  1645.  A  person  who  has  resided  at  East 
Burnham  for  the  last  twenty  years,  or  thereabouts, 
has  taken  the  trouble  to  collect  (from  living  testimony 
chiefly)  the  following  particulars  relating  to  this 
sequestered  region. 

Up  to  the  middle  of  the  last  century,  the  possessors 
of  the  estates  of  Huntercombe  and  East  Burnham 
habitually  resided  at  the  ancestral  mansion  known  as 
Huntercombe  House,  situate  a  short  distance  from 
Burnham  on  the  old  London  and  Bath  road;  the  last 
male  representative  of  the  Eyre  family  who  lived 
there  being  Mr.  Thomas  Eyre,  who  was  born,  it  would 
appear,  about  the  year  1661.  This  gentleman  had 
two  sons,  besides  daughters.  For  his  second  son, 
Charles,  he  obtained  the  place  of  secondary  in  his 
Majesty's  Exchequer,  a  lucrative  post  at  that  time. 


THE  HAMLET  OF  EAST  BURNHAM.      139 

The  eldest  son  lived  with  his  father.  Mr.  Charles 
E}Te,  the  secondary,  bought  a  house  at  East  Burn- 
ham,  with  some  land  round  it,  situated  in  the  centre 
of  his  father's  estate,  which  estate  he  was  one  day- 
destined,  though  the  younger  son,  to  inherit.  At 
this  house  he  established  his  menage^  which  com- 
prised within  it  a  pretty  housekeeper  of  the  name  of 
Green  (a  native  of  Stoke,  hard  by),  by  whom  he  had 
two  children,  both  girls.  He  lived  in  good  style, 
received  his  male  acquaintance  there  hospitably, 
and  was  considered  to  be  what  was  called  a  "man 
of  pleasure."  It  is  related  that  the  elder  brother 
of  this  Mr.  Charles  Eyre  was,  or  pretended  to  be, 
scandalized  at  his  brother's  free  way  of  life,  and  was 
wont  to  say  "  that  he  would  take  a  wife  himself,  if 
only  to  get  an  heir  who  should  keep  Charles  out  of 
the  estate."  Nevertheless,  he  died  a  bachelor,  and 
Mr.  Charles  Eyre  accordingly  succeeded  to  these 
ancient  possessions,  about  the  year  1745.  But  he 
let  the  house  at  Huntercombe,  and  continued  to  live 
at  his  own  house  at  East  Burnham,  his  eldest  daughter, 
Elizabeth,  residing  with  him  (bearing  his  name) 
until  his  death,  at  the  ripe  age  of  eighty,  in  1786. 
She  used  to  assist  him  in  his  business  as  "  Secondary,'* 
the  greater  part  of  which  he  transacted  in  the  country ; 
boxes  of  papers,  coins,  tallies,  &c.,  being  sent  from 
the  Exchequer  to  East  Burnham  by  official  mes- 
sengers for  that  purpose.  His  youngest  daughter, 
Arabella,  was  sought  in  marriage  about  the  year 
1770  by  a  Captain  John  Popple,  a  young  gentleman 
in  the  regular  army,  without  any  fortune :  the  captain 
probably  calculating  on  that  deficiency  being  supplied 
by  his  wife's  expected  inheritance.      He  continued 


140  SOME    ACCOUNT    OF 

in  the  army,  living  in  quarters,  accompanied  by  his 
wife,  on  a  very  small  income,  up  to  the  death  of  Mr. 
Eyre,  when  that  gentleman  leaving  his  daughters 
each  a  comfortable  fortune.  Captain  Popple  quitted 
the  service,  and  went  to  live  at  a  place  called  Bury 
Hill,  in  Hertfordshire. 

Mr.  Charles  Eyre  dying  without  legitimate  issue, 
the  paternal  estate,  manors,  &c.,  passed  to  his  nephew, 
a  Captain  Sayer,  the  son  of  one  of  his  sisters,  who  had 
married  a  Mr.  Sayer,  of  London,  drysalter.  This 
gentleman  accordingly  came  to  reside  on  his  estate ; 
but  he  could  not  well  live  where  Mr.  Eyre  had  done, 
seeing  that  Mr.  Eyre  had  bequeathed  that  house  to 
his  eldest  daughter  as  part  of  her  inheritance :  East 
Burnham  House,  and  about  forty  acres  of  land  adja- 
cent, not  forming  any  portion  of  the  Eyre  estate. 
Captain  Sayer  took  up  his  abode  in  a  small  house  (at 
that  time  almost  a  cottage),  pertaining  to  the  Eyre 
estate,  adding  a  few  rooms  to  make  it  suitable  for  a 
gentleman  to  occupy.  There  Avas  another  house 
belonging  to  himself,  called  the  "  Manor  House,"  of 
much  better  appearance,  also  situate  in  East  Burn- 
ham  :  but  this  was  sadly  out  of  repair,  and  decayed, 
so  that  Captain  Sayer  preferred  to  live  in  the  house 
above  mentioned,  situated  on  the  verge  of  the  common. 
Here  he  kept  a  pack  of  harriers,  and  lived  like  a 
gentleman,  though  from  having  delicate  health  he 
went  rarely  abroad.  His  hounds  were  maintained 
more  for  his  country  neighbours'  amusement  than 
his  own,  since  he,  poor  man !  was  all  but  blind,  and 
could  take  therefore  very  little  share  in  any  kind  of 
sport. 

J\lr.  Sayer  had  been  in  the  army,  and  had  received 


THE  HAMLET  OF  EAST  BURNHAM.       141 

a  bullet  wound  at  the  battle  of  Minden,  in  1759. 
The  belief  entertained  by  his  friends  Avas,  that  he  had 
contracted  an  injury  to  his  sight  by  sleeping  on  the 
damp  ground,  in  the  campaign  in  Germany ;  he  was 
never  married.  At  the  time  of  his  residence  on  the 
estate  (which  embraced  a  span  of  twenty-four  years), 
a  vast  deal  of  game  was  spread  over  the  manor.  Mr. 
Sayer  was  a  justice  of  the  peace,  and  persons  who 
trespassed  on  the  manor  and  killed  his  game  were 
often  caught,  and  brought  before  him  by  his  own 
gamekeepers :  yet  he  never  would  punish  them,  but 
used  to  reprimand  them  gently,  telling  them  "  they 
must  not  repeat  the  offence ;"  after  which,  he  would . 
order  them  into  the  servants'  hall  to  get  victuals  and 
drink.  Before  Mr.  Charles  Eyre's  death,  the  cottage, 
to  which  Mr.  Sayer  afterwards  made  the  addition  I 
have  spoken  of,  would  seem  to  have  been  occasionally 
let  for  the  summer,  for  it  is  well  remembered  in  the 
neighbourhood  that,  to  this  cottage  Mr.  Richard 
Brinsley  Sheridan  brought  his  charming  young  bride, 
Miss  Linley,  on  returning  to  England  from  Flanders 
after  their  stolen  wedding;  and  here,  therefore,  may 
be  supposed  to  have  been  spent  their  real  "  honey- 
moon." In  Moore's  Life  of  Sheridan  will  be  found 
letters  from  Sheridan  written  from  East  Burnham 
Cottage. 

To  return  to  Mr.  Charles  Eyre.  He  left  the  bulk 
of  his  personal  property — which  was  considerable — 
to  his  two  daughters.  The  eldest  was,  a  year  or  two 
after  his  death,  united  in  marriage  to  Mr.  Coxe,  a 
gentleman  of  fortune  in  the  county  of  Gloucester ;  he 
was  nephew  to  Mr.  Charles  Eyre,  through  his  mother, 
and   consequently  cousin    german   in  blood,  though 


142  SOME   ACCOUNT   OF 

not  In  title,  to  Miss  Elizabeth  Eyre.  She  bore  him 
no  children,  being  no  longer  young  at  this  period, 
and  in  the  sequel  (as  will  presently  be  narrated)  she 
managed  to  enrich  his  descendants  by  a  former  wife 
with  her  own  money. 

After  her  marriage,  Mrs.  Coxe  let  the  house  in 
which  she  and  her  father  had  so  long  resided,  and 
took  possession  of  her  new  home  at  Lippiat,  in 
Gloucestershire.  I  cannot  make  out  the  names  of  the 
parties  who  thenceforth  tenanted  "  the  great  house" 
at  East  Burnham,  except  that  of  a  Mr.  Sturt,  and  a 
Mr.  Stevenson,  of  Coxe  Lodge,  Co.  Northumberland, 
whose  daughter  became  Countess  of  Mexborough, 
and,  with  the  Earl,  also  resided  some  time  at  East 
Burnham.  A  Mr.  Parry  lived  and  died  (in  1812) 
at  the  Manor  House^  the  site  of  which  was  many 
years  since  converted  into  a  market  garden,  let  to 
Thomas  Buckland,  (formerly  gamekeeper  to  the  lord 
of  the  manor,)  where  a  noble  cedar  of  Lebanon 
remains  and  flourishes  still,  a  vestige  of  the  character 
of  the  residence  in  bygone  days.  I  am  unable  to 
say  who  lived  there  after  Mr.  Parry's  death,  although 
doubtless  the  books  of  the  collector  of  rates  and 
taxes  of  the  period  would  furnish  the  names,  if 
referred  to. 

During  the  reign  (as  we  will  call  it)  of  Mr.  Sayer 
— viz.,  from  1786  down  to  1810 — the  hamlet  of  East 
Burnham  seems  to  have  been  profoundly  tranquil  and 
stationary,  the  agriculture  eminently  primitive  and 
unskilful,  the  habits  of  the  people  rude  and  uncon- 
trolled; the  labouring  class  less  depressed,  perhaps, 
than  in  many  other  districts,  since  Mr.  Sayer  was 
liberal-lianded,  Mrs.  Coxe  extremely  kind  and  generous 


THE  HAMLET  OF  EAST  EURNHAM.       143 

towards  them,  and  the  formers  held  their  land  at  an 
easy  rent.  Mr.  Sayer  must  have  lived  much  within 
his  income,  passing  his  days  as  he  did  in  quiet  retire- 
ment, occup}dng  his  own  house,  and  keeping  an  esta- 
blishment of  a  moderate  size.  He  seems  to  have  had 
a  sister  about  his  own  age  living  with  him,  who  died 
one  year  before  him,  unmarried.  An  old  man  now 
alive,  named  William  Buckland,  at  the  age  of  eighty- 
four,  relates  that  his  father  was  gamekeeper  to  Captain 
Sayer,  and  was  also  general  overlooker  of  the  woods 
and  the  manor  of  East  Burnham  (or  "Allards".) 
He  himself  (the  deponent)  knew  this  place  during 
fifty  years,  never  knew  an  instance  of  a  tree  standing 
on  the  waste  or  forest  being  cut  down,  but  sometimes 
the  wind  would  blow  one  down,  or  part  of  one,  on 
which  occasions  the  lord  of  the  manor  always  had 
them  cut  up  by  his  own  men :  often  distributing  among 
the  poor  people  the  wood  so  obtained,  but  not  invari- 
ably. Sometimes  took  it  home  for  his  own  use. 
Had  heard  it  said  by  many  persons  that  Mr.  Sayer 
had  no  legal  rights  over  the  manor,  not  having  in- 
herited through  the  male  line;  still,  nobody  ever 
contested  it,  Mr.  Sayer  being  well  liked  by  his 
neighbours. 

Another  man,  named  Slaymaker,  related  to  the 
writer  some  particulars  concerning  this  hamlet,  in 
December,  1856,  he  being  then  eighty-five.  He  came 
first  into  this  neighbourhood  about  the  year  1792; 
he  was  farm  servant,  or  husbandry-labourer,  and 
shepherd,  many  years  with  a  farmer  named  Edward 
Gold  win,  who  then  held  the  farm  now  occupied  by 
Mr.  William  Watkins.  During  the  eleven  years  of 
Slaymaker's  service  w^ith  Farmer  Goldwin  in  East 


144  SOME    ACCOUNT    OF 

Burnham,  the  cottagers  of  the  hamlet  enjoyed  the 
liberty  of  entering  the  woods  belonging  to  Ca2:)tain 
Sayer,  at  felling- time,  and  carrying  away  quantities  of 
"rough  wood,"  or  "lop  and  top."  They  were  never 
obstructed  by  the  wood-cutters — indeed,  Slaymaker 
has  often  seen  them  assist  the  poor  people  (most  of 
them  women)  to  cut  up  the  large  pieces :  lending  them 
their  hatchets  occasionally,  to  facilitate  the  removal  of 
such  wood  as  they  could  carry  away  on  their  backs. 
The  farmers  in  the  immediate  vicinity  were  in  the 
habit  of  sending  their  carts  to  fetch  home  to  the 
respective  cottages  the  wood  thus  collected.  Farmer 
Gold  win,  Farmer  Bonsey,  and  Farmer  Taylor,  all  of 
East  Burnham,  frequently  lent  their  horses  and  men 
for  this  purpose,  so  that  most  of  the  cottagers 
possessed  a  tolerable  stack  of  firewood,  to  which  they 
added  sometimes  a  little  peat,  which  they  cut  un- 
molested when  and  where  they  liked,  on  the  common. 
But  as  wood  was  so  easily  obtained,  peat  or  turf  was 
comparatively  little  used.  Slaymaker  mentioned,  in 
relation  to  these  facts,  the  following  anecdote.  His 
master  (Goldwin)  being  then  eighty  years  old,  was 
apt  to  be  somewhat  "  short"  in  his  temper,  and  one 
day  a  woman  named  Plumridge  coming  to  his  house 
to  beg  "  that  he  would  be  so  good  as  to  send  a  cart 
to  draw  home  a  load  of  wood  belonging  to  her  in 
Captain  Sayer's  copse,"  the  old  man  refused  her 
request. 

After  a  pause,  he  told  her  to  go  and  ask  some  other 
neighbour — naming  Farmers  Bonsey  and  Taylor — 
adding  that  "he  (Goldwin)  could  not  do  it;"  on  re- 
ceiving this  rebuff,  the  woman  went  her  wa}^,  when 
the  old  man  called  after  her  and  said — -"  I'll  tell  you 


THE    HAMLET    OF    EAST    BURNHASf.  145 

what !  good  woman ;  you  shall  have  my  cart  and 
horses,  provided  you  give  my  men  a  drop  of  beer  and 
a  bit  of  bread  and  cheese  for  their  trouble,  and  that 
is  all  it  shall  cost  you."  Slay  maker  witnessed  this 
colloquy,  and  recollects  it  distinctly,  though  at  a  dis- 
tance of  some  forty  years.  Slaymaker  confirms 
Bucldand's  statement  that  the  game  of  Captain 
Sayer's  manor  was  very  abundant.  The  whole  dis- 
trict was  at  that  time  (Slaymaker  says)  exceedingly 
retired  and  unfrequented.  Such  a  thing  as  a  carriage 
was  never  seen;  poaching  was  habitually  practised, 
though  (as  Buckland  likewise  related)  Mr.  Sayer 
Avould  never  proceed  against  the  offenders.  The 
wonder  is,  that  the  game  was  not  altogether  destroyed ! 
Slaymaker's  wages,  as  labourer  in  husbandry,  were 
10.9.  per  week;  he  occupied  a  cottage,  known  as 
"  The  Orchards,"  on  the  skirt  of  the  common ;  it  be- 
longed to  the  Hutchinson  family  at  Beaconsfield,  by 
whom  it  was  afterwards  sold  (about  the  year  1844) 
to  Mr.  Grote.  While  Slaymaker  occupied  this  tene- 
ment, he  paid  a  rent  of  12/.;  keeping  a  cow,  some- 
times a  few  sheep,  and  always  some  pigs,  all  of  which 
he  pastured  on  the  common  and  waste. 

I  pause  here,  to  note  the  evidence  furnished  by  an- 
other old  inhabitant  of  East  Burnham,  named  Plum- 
ridge  (December,  1857).  This  man,  being  now  eighty 
years  of  age,  tells  me  that  he  in  his  youth  cut  wood 
for  Captain  Sayer ;  that  it  is  true  that  the  cottagers 
fetched  a'way  "  rough  wood"  and  "  notch  ends,  and 
such  like,"  not  being  saleable  as  faggots,  stakes,  or 
heathers;  but,  he  adds,  this  wood  so  fetched  away  was 
not  had  for  nothing ;  it  was  valued  to  the  woodcutters 
themselves,  and  "  set  off"  as  part  payment   of  their 

L 


146  SOME    ACCOUNT  OF 

work;  they  settling  accounts  in  their  turn  with  the 
cottagers. 

I  come  now  to  the  period  which  succeeded  to  the 
reign  of  Mr.  Sayer ;  that  gentleman  dying,  at  the  age 
of  eighty,  in  the  year  1810.  But  I  must  first  relate 
what  befel  Mrs.  Coxe,  who  came  to  be  an  important 
personage  in  the  locality. 

Mr.  Coxe  died,  advanced  in  years,  towards  the 
close  of  the  last  century,  leaving  Mrs.  Coxe  his  estate 
of  Lippiat.  She  soon  found  it  an  unsuitable  residence 
for  a  single  woman  however,  and,  within  a  brief  space, 
quitted  Gloucestershire,  making  over  the  house  and 
landed  property  to  *  Mr.  Robert  Gordon,  M.P.,  who 
had  married  the  granddaughter  of  her  late  husband 
by  his  first  wife. 

Mrs.  Coxe,  ever  attracted  by  early  associations  to 
the  place  of  her  birth,  now  resumed  the  occupation  of 
her  mansion  at  East  Burnham :  spending  the  greater 
part  of  the  year  there,  but  repairing  to  Bath  (where 
she  had  j)urchased  a  house)  for  the  winter  months. 

With  Captain  Sayer,  who,  as  has  been  related,  lived 
at  East  Burnham  during  the  whole  period  of  his  pos- 
session of  the  estates,  Mrs.  Coxe  was  on  friendly  and 
familiar  terms.  He  used  to  say  to  her,  "  Cousin,  I 
intend  to  leave  you  this  house  and  land,  and  the 
adjoining  wood  (Tomkins'  Wood);  and  Popple  shall 
have  the  estates,  and  shall  inhabit  your  large  house." 

In  conformity  with  this  assurance,  Mr.  Sayer  made 
a  will,  in  which  the  whole  of  the  Eyre  estates,  manors, 
&c.,  were  bequeathed  to  Mr.  Popple,  for  life,  and  in 
which  the  house  and  land  above  specified  was  left  to 
Mrs.  Coxe  for  Iter  life.  The  whole  to  revert  to  the 
wdfe  of  Mr.  Robert  Gordon,  absolutely. 


THE    HAMLET    OF   EAST   BURNHAM.  147 

Mr.  Sayer  being  the  last  male  heir  of  the  long  line 
of  Eyres,  whose  property  he  enjoyed,  was,  it  would 
appear,  master  of  the  same,  and  competent  to  will  it 
away  to  whomsoever  he  thought  fit.  The  heir  in  re- 
mainder, Mrs.  Gordon,  was  related  by  blood  to  the 
testator,  as  has  been  already  mentioned;  and  it  was 
believed  that  Mr.  Sayer  had  been  influenced  by  per- 
sonal liking  for  Captain  Popple  and  his  lady  in  mak- 
ing him  his  immediate  heir;  the  rather,  as  he  had  little 
or  no  acquaintance  with  the  legitimate  branch  of  his 
uncle's  family. 

Captain  Popple,  on  finding  himself  invested  with  the 
possession  of  this  fine  property,  came  to  reside  at  East 
Burnham :  obtaining  permission  from  Mrs.  Coxe  to  in- 
habit the  house  belonging  to  her  (where  Mr.  Eyre,  her 
father,  had  lived),  as  being  a  more  capacious  and  gen- 
tlemanlike residence  for  the  "  Squire"  of  the  place. 
During  the  first  years  of  his  tenure.  Captain  Popple 
exercised  his  rights  over  his  newly  acquired  pro- 
perty very  much  to  the  satisfaction  of  the  neigh- 
bourhood;* his  steward,  a  Mr.  Hall,  held  his 
"courts"  at  the  Manor  House,  and  attended  to  the 
maintenance  of  the  roads  and  highways,  the  gates 
upon  the  waste,  and  all  matters  concerning  the  general 
interest  of  the  inhabitants.  At  the  courts,  "  presenta- 
tions" were  made  of  any  neglect  of  duty  on  the  part  of 
the  surveyor  of  roads,  or  of  nuisances  in  the  hamlet. 
"William  Buckland,  of  whom  I  have  already  spoken. 


*  Tovrarda  the  latter  period  of  his  life,  Mrs.  Coxe  used  to  re- 
proach her  brother-in-law  with  neglecting  his  duties  as  Lord  of  the 
Manor,  and  with  allowing  the  highways  and  other  matters  to  fall  into 
bad  order  :  Mr.  Popple  always  replying,  "  Yes,  yes,  I  know  it— I  will 
Lave  it  done" — and  so  forth. 

L    2 


148  SOME    ACCOUNT    OF 

told  me  that  his  father  passed  into  the  service  of 
Captain  Popple  at  the  death  of  Mr.  Sayer,  as  game- 
keeper and  overlooker  of  the  woods.  In  ^Ir.  Popple's 
time,  all  the  woods  belonging  to  the  East  Burnhani 
estate,  except  "  The  Beeches "  proper,  were  fenced 
about,  but  never  locked.  That  in  winter  season  all 
the  cottagers  used  to  go  and  fetch  away,  at  falling 
time,  as  mucli  "  rough  wood"  as  they  chose  for  firing, 
without  molestation;  he,  Buckland,  confirms  Slay- 
maker's  statement  in  every  particular  as  to  the  prac- 
tice of  the  woodcutters  permitting  this  to  be  done, 
lending  their  hatchets,  &c.  &c. 

Mrs.  Coxe  liaving  consented  to  allow  her  brother- 
in-law  to  occupy  her  house  (whether  rent  free,  or 
otherwise,  I  am  unable  to  say),  Captain  Popple  be- 
sought her  to  grant  him  an  assurance  that  in  case  Mrs. 
Popple  should  die  before  him  he  should  not  be  dis- 
turbed in  his  occupation  as  long  as  he  lived ;  to  this 
request  Mrs.  Coxe  most  kindly  acceded,  though  not 
without  some  reluctance,  having  a  local  attachment 
to  the  spot  where  she  had  been  born  and  bred.  Mrs. 
Coxe  herself  took  possession  of  the  house  and  land 
which  Mr.  Sayer  had  left  to  her,  where  she  spent  the 
greater  part  of  the  year,  diff*using  her  bounty  over  the 
humble  inhabitants  of  the  place,  and  influencing  them 
in  every  good  direction  by  her  precepts  and  example. 

Now  the  heiress  in  remainder  to  all  this  fine 
Eyre  property  was  the  wife  of  Mr.  Robert  Gordon, 
M.P.,  sometime  Secretary  of  the  Treasury.  (Her 
grandmother  was  the  first  wife  of  Mr.  Charles  Coxe, 
the  husband,  by  second  marriage,  of  Mrs.  Coxe,  late 
Miss  Eyre.)  Mr.  Robert  Gordon  wishing  to  realize 
by  anticipation  a   portion  of  his  wife's   prospective 


THE  HAMLET  OF  EAST  BURNHAM.       149 

inheritance,  sold  to  lord  Grenville*  his  wife's  rever- 
sionary interest  in  the  estate;  which  transaction 
coming  to  the  knowledge  of  Mr.  Popple,  he  began 
cuttino^  the  timber  orrowino;  in  the  East  Burnham 
and  other  woods,  which  he  had  a  right  to  do  as  life 
tenant.  Lord  Grenville,  fearing  to  become  a  loser  by 
the  bargain  if  this  was  persisted  in,  found  himself 
compelled  to  pay  a  considerable  sum  to  Mr.  Popple 
in  order  to  protect  himself  by  a  lease  for  seventeen 
years,  as  I  have  been  told.f  Slaymaker  stated  that, 
from  the  time  of  the  said  woods  being  leased  to  Lord 
Grenville,  the  ancient  practice  of  fetching  out  firewood 
by  the  cottagers  was  put  a  stop  to.  Buckland  affirmed 
this  also;  adding  that  compensation  was  granted  at 
the  time,  in  money,  at  the  rate  of  61.  to  each  cottage. 
As  the  occupants  of  these  cottages  successively  died 
ofi^,  such  payments  ceased,  and  their  successors 
thenceforth  took  to  cutting  peat  or  turf  for  their 
firing.  Buckland  adds,  that  up  to  this  period  but 
little  turf  was  used  by  the  labouring  people. 

Soon  after  his  accession  to  the  property  of  Mr. 
Sayer,  Mr.  Popple,  effecting  an  exchange  of  lands 
with  the  Eyre  property,  enlarged  the  little  domain 
around  East  Burnham  House,  by  stopping  up  a  road 
called  "  Hagget's  Lane,"  which  formerly  led  from  the 
hamlet  to  Slough :  and,  throwing  the  land  on  either 
side  thereof  into  one  undivided  plot,  he  obtained  an 
area  of  about  ninety  acres,  which  received  the  appella- 
tion of  ''  Popple's  Park,"  and  is  so  called  in  the  parish 
"  Terrier"  to  this  day. 

*  At  the  price  of  £54,000. 
t  Some  persons  state  tlie  price  of  this  lease  to  have  been  3000/. ; 
otkers,  rather  less. 


150  SOME    ACCOUNT   OF 

I  have  been  told  that  Mr.  Popple  gave  up  a  wood 
called  "  Moswells,"  and  also  some  land  in  Burnham, 
afterwards  occupied  by  a  farmer  named  Crocker,  in 
exchange  for  the  ground  contiguous  to  his  resi- 
dence. 

It  has  already  been  stated  that  Lord  Grenville,  in 
the  3'ear  1812,  bought  the  reversion  of  Robert  Gordon 
at  the  price  of  54,000/.,  and  as  regarded  the  woods, 
having  obtained  a  lease  of  them  from  Captain  Popple 
(paying  smartly,  however,  for  this),  he  awaited  the 
period  of  Popple's  death,  when  he  would  take  posses- 
sion of  the  whole  estate,  manors,  and  privileges,  of  the 
late  Captain  Sayer. 

But  Captain  Popple  "  held  on "  till  an  advanced 
age,  not  dying  until  1830,  when  he  had  reached  his 
eightieth  year.*  Accordingly,  Lord  Grenville  came 
into  the  property  under  circumstances  disadvantageous 
to  the  purchaser.  He  had  waited  no  less  than 
eighteen  years  or  so  for  the  falling  in  of  the  reversion 
of  Captain  Popple's  life  tenancy,  and  then^  as  might 
have  been  expected,  he  found  the  buildings,  fences, 
and  general  condition  of  the  farms  deplorably  di- 
lapidated, and  needing  a  vast  outlay  to  put  them  into 
anything  like  order  and  substantial  repair.  For  tliis 
outlay  Lord  Grenville  was  ill  disposed,  as  may  be 
imagined.  And  an  event  took  place,  within  a  short 
space  after  Mr.  Po2:)ple's  decease,  which  gave  to  the 
transaction  I  have  recorded  an  aspect  of  yet  more 
complete  disappointment. 

The  dominant  idea  of  Lord  Grenville's  whole  life 

*  Each  of  the  three  last  possessors  of  this  property  lived  to  the 
age  of  eighty  :  one  among  many  other  evidences  of  the  salubrity  of  the 
place. 


THE  HAMLET  OF  EAST  BURNHAM.       151 

was  to  secure  political  influence  for  the  famil}^  of 
which  he  was  a  member.  The  Marcjuis  of  Bucking- 
ham, the  head  of  that  family,  may  be  said  to  have 
dreamed  of  little  else :  his  mind  was  vastly  inferior  to 
those  of  Lord  Grenville  and  the  third  brother,  Thomas 
Grenville,  and  his  claims  to  political  office  and  power 
arose  almost  entirely  from  the  extent  of  his  territorial 
possessions,  together  with  the  pressure  which  he  could 
exercise  at  elections,  over  the  tenantry  of  his  lands, 
and  over  the  residents  in  his  boroughs.  Accordingly, 
the  aim  of  Lord  Grenville,  for  many  long  years,  was 
to  lay  hold  on  every  estate  in  the  south  of  the  county 
of  Bucks  which  came  into  the  market,  in  the  view  of 
strengthening  the  Grenville  interest  in  the  elections, 
especially  of  the  two  members  for  the  county.  By 
the  aid  of  Lady  Grenville's  large  inheritance  (which 
unexpectedly  fell  to  her  by  the  death  of  Lord  Camel- 
ford),  and  his  own  emoluments  as  one  of  the  auditors 
of  the  Exchequer,  Lord  Grenville  managed  to  add 
very  largely  to  his  landed  possessions,  and  doubtless 
to  his  political  influence.  Still,  from  the  important 
acquisition  of  the  East  Burnham  and  Huntercombe 
property  much  less  advantage  resulted,  either  as  an 
investment,  or  as  a  means  of  multiplying  dependent 
voters,  than  his  lordship  had  expected  when  efl'ecting 
the  bargain  in  1812.  Not  only  were  the  buildings  on 
the  farms  found  to  be  quite  decayed,  and  the  labourers' 
cottages  half  in  ruins,  on  the  Sayer  estate;  but  the 
Reform  Bill  swept  away,  two  years  after  Lord  Gren- 
.  ville  came  into  the  enjoyment  of  the  estate,  a  large 
portion  of  the  advantap^e  to  be  derived  from  the  voters 
living  upon  it.  However,  the  distinguished  statesman 
himself  closed  his  mortal  career  almost  at  the  same 


]52  SOME    ACCOUNT    OF 

period,  leaving  to  bis  widow  the  charge  of  setting  to 
rights  the  dilapidations  consequent  upon  five-and- 
forty  years'  neglect  and  apathy,  on  the  part  of  the 
two  aged  predecessors,  Captain  Sayer  and  Captain 
Popple. 

On  the  death  of  Captain  Popple,  ]\Irs.  Coxe  thought 
fit  to  remove  to  the  house  in  tlie  Park,  wherein,  by  her 
indulgence,  he  had  resided  up  to  his  death  in  1830. 
The  house  which  she  now  vacated  was  soon  after  let 
to  a  clerical  gentleman  named  Joyce  (formerly  of 
Henley-upon-Thames),  who  received  young  gentlemen 
in  it  as  pupils.  A  Colonel  Trant  also  rented  the 
house  for  a  year  or  so. 

The  good  and  kind  lady  lived  at  the  paternal  man- 
sion for  about  five  years  more,  and  died,  regretted  and 
mourned  by  all  who  knew  her,  in  1835 ;  she,  like  her 
predecessors  in  the  hamlet,  having  reached  a  ri^je  and 
healthy  old  age. 

During  the  tenure  of  Mr.  Popple,  the  house  had 
been  enlarged,  at  the  joint  expense  of  himself  and  Mrs. 
Coxe,  and  was  at  this  period  a  handsome,  spacious 
mansion,  containing  twenty-eight  rooms.  The  plea- 
sure-grounds were  suitably  kept  up,  and  the  walled 
fruit  gardens  were  extensive  and  productive. 

From  1836  to  1838  the  house  in  which  Captain 
Sayer  had  lived  remained  unoccupied.  The  land  was 
let  to  neighbouring  farmers,  whilst  the  garden  was 
suffered  to  go  to  ruin. 

The  mansion  in  "  Popple's  Park "  was  offered  in 
vain  to  be  let.  Dancer  refusing  to  relinquish  his  lease 
(except  upon  extravagant  terms),  no  gentleman  would 
take  the  place.  Mrs.  Coxe  had  bequeathed  the  house 
and  laud,  together  with  10,000/.  in  money,  to  Mrs. 


THE  HAMLET  OF  EAST  BURMHAM.       153 

Gordon;  but  she  left  the  furniture,  and  "personals" 
belonging  to  her,  to  a  young  man  (her  godson,  I. 
believe),  named  Philip  Shepherd,  whom  she  had 
brought  up,  and  to  whom,  moreover,  she  left  the 
bulk  of  her  funded  property,  Avhicli  was  consider- 
able. To  this  gentleman — who  was  her  residuary 
legatee — was  also  left  the  reversion  of  an  annuity 
of  50/.  a  year  bestowed  upon  Mrs.  James  Dancer,* 
during  long  years  the  faithful  attendant  of  the 
testatrix. 

In  1837,  Mr.  Robert  Gordon,  finding  no  one  dis- 
posed to  rent  the  great  house,  proceeded  to  pull  it 
down,  and  sell  the  materials :  whilst  the  old  Manor 
House  which,  from  long  neglect,  was  in  bad  con- 
dition, underwent  the  same  fate  by  order  of  Lady 
Grenville. 

Thus  it  came  to  pass  that  the  hamlet  of  East 
Burnham,  which,  during  perhaps  a  century,  had 
possessed  three  opulent  families,  now  found  itself  all 
at  once  without  either  a  gentleman  or  lady  resident. 
The  only  gentleman's  house  left  standing  was  that  in 
which  Captain  Sayer  had  resided.  Besides  this  there 
was  a  small  but  genteel  cottage,  standing  in  a  plot  of 
some  eight  or  nine  acres  of  ground,  near  the  old 
Manor  House,  and  now  inhabited  by  Mrs.  Elizabeth 
Dancer  and  her  husband :  the  land  had  been  given  to 
her  during  Mrs.  Coxe's  lifetime,  and  the  cost  of 
building  the  dwelling-house  had  likewise  been  defrayed 
by  that  benevolent  lady.  Mrs.  Dancer  (whose  hus- 
band was  brother  to  the  lessee  of  "  Popple's  Park") 
afterwards  bought  the  small  cottage  and  garden  situate 

*  Now  living  in  the  village  of  Burnham. 


15-i  SOME  ACCOUNT  OF 

on  the  verge  of  her  own  ground,  paying  for  it  200^. 
to  Mr.  Gordon. 


Such  was  the  condition  of  the  Hamlet  of  East 
Burnham  at  the  period  when  accident  led  me  to 
become  acquainted  with  this  "  out-of-the-way"  spot. 
I  had  for  some  time  been  on  the  look-out  for  a  rural 
dwelling  in  some  healtliful,  retired  district,  where  the 
air  and  water  were  good,  and  where  I  could  find 
facilities  for  walking  and  rambling  about,  on  ground 
other  than  a  dusty  high-road.  These  conditions 
appearing  to  be  realized  by  the  district  in  question,  I 
opened  a  negotiation  with  Mr.  Gordon,  which  resulted 
in  a  purchase,  by  Mr.  Grote,  of  that  property  which 
Mr.  Saj^er  had  left,  for  her  life,  to  Mrs.  Coxe :  con- 
sisting of  the  house  and  land,  a  labourer's  cottage 
and  garden  (let  to  G.  Taylor),  and  a  Avood,  of  about 
eleven  acres,  called  "  Tomkins'  Wood."  We  took 
possession  of  this  little  estate  about  the  month 
of  June,  1838,  but  found  that  extensive  repairs 
must  be  undertaken,  which  were  effected  in  time  to 
enable  us  to  establish  our  residence  therein  during 
the  course  of  the  same  autumn.  It  would  have  been 
wise  to  have  pulled  down  all  the  older  portion  (or 
"  Sheridan's  Cottage,"  as  Mr.  Sayer  used  to  call  it), 
together  with  the  stabling  and  out-buildings,  and  to 
have  rebuilt  these.  However,  my  state  of  health 
was  at  this  time  too  delicate  to  allow  of  my  post- 
poning the  occupation  of  our  country  retreat,  and  we 
accordingl}^  contented  ourselves  with  mending  up 
the  old  concern  so  as  to  be  "habitable;"  removing 
to  our  London  house  about  Christmas,  1838-9. 

Within   a  year  of  our  establishing  this  menage  at 


THE    HAJklLET    OF    EAST   BUllNHAM.  155 

East  Burnham,  we  made  an  exchange  of  lands  with 
Lady  Grenville,  which  conduced  sensibly  to  the  com- 
fort of  our  occupancy.  The  adjacent  orchard  and  a 
cottage,  together  with  a  close  lying  north  of  this 
orchard,  and  bounding  our  garden  on  the  east,  were 
conveyed  over  to  us  by  Lady  Grenville,  along  with  a 
slip  of  land  through  which  a  public  footpath  ran  from 
East  Burnham  to  the  common-side. 

In  return  for  this  lot  of  land,  we  gave  up  to  her, 
first,  a  cottage  and  garden  on  the  north  edge  of  our 
meadow  (called  the  Captain's  Meadow);  secondly, 
two  very  good  meadows,  called  respectively  "  Dod's 
Meadow"  and  "  Appletree  Close,"  situate  on  the  east 
side  of  the  slip  on  the  slope  of  the  hill,  containing  more 
land  than  the  lot  which  we  obtained ;  and  over  and 
above  this  exchange,  we  paid  Lady  Grenville  in 
money  the  sum  of  200/.  The  object  we  considered  so 
desirable,  of  possessing  the  ground  abutting  on  our 
garden,  that  we  willingly  consented  to  this  arrange- 
ment, which  certainly  left  her  ladyship  a  clear  gainer. 

On  Lady  Grenville's  coming  into  the  exercise  of 
her  rights  over  the  property  and  privileges  of  East 
Burnham,  I  have  understood  that  "  a  court"  was  held 
at  which  (among  other  business)  it  was  laid  down  as  a 
regulation  that  no  person  should  be  permitted  to  cut 
turf  for  firing  on  the  common  except  the  inhabitants  of 
East  Burnham  proper,  and  that  such  inhabitants  were 
to  limit  their  cutthig  to  2000  turves  for  each  cottage,  or, 
as  the  phrase  ran,  for  "  each  chimney."  Now,  as  I  was 
anxious  to  be  informed  how  the  matter  stood  in  regard 
to  the  lord  of  the  manor  and  the  occupiers  of  houses 
in  the  "  Liberty,"  I  asked  Mr.  Bowman  (the  steward 
of  Lady  Grenville)  to  state  the  footing  on  which  this 


156  SOME    ACCOUNT   OF 

privilege  was  placed.  The  steward  told  me  that  I  was 
at  liberty  to  cut  turves  for  my  own  house,  and  turves 
for  my  cottage  at  the  end  of  the  orchard,  at  the  rate 
of  2000  each  tenement. 

I  caused  turf  to  be  cut  on  this  understanding  from 
1838  till  1851,  when  I  quitted  my  original  residence  in 
East  Burnliam.  My  successor  and  tenant  did  the  same ; 
no  hindrance  or  objection  ever  arose  on  the  part  of 
I;ady  Grenville,  to  the  best  of  my  knowledge,  nor  were 
the  labouring  people  ever  interfered  with  in  cutting 
and  carrying  away  their  parcels.  It  was  universally 
believed  that  this  rio-ht  belono;ed  to  the  inhabitants,  in 
the  same  way  as  the  right  of  turning  out  animals  to 
pasture  and  hogs  to  fatten  on  the  acorns  and  beech- 
mast — a  right,  subject,  of  course,  to  restrictions  against 
injury  to  the  property  of  the  manor,  or  to  the  persons 
and  property  of  other  parties,  or  the  general  interests 
of  the  public  frequenting  the  district. 

I  shall  return  to  this  subject  by-and-bye,  but  mean- 
Avhile  I  must  say  a  word  or  two  upon  the  general 
character  of  the  population  of  East  Burnham,  such 
as  I  found  it  in  1838,  and  during  many  following 
years.  In  the  first  place,  the  inhabitants  earned 
their  living  almost  entirely  by  husbandry  labour. 
Neither  a  tailor,  shoemaker,  j^lumber,  or,  in  fact, 
any  kind  of  skilled  artisan,  was  to  be  found  in  our 
hamlet.  One  old  man,  of  the  name  of  Huirhes,  lived 
by  working  as  a  bricklayer;  and  a  young  man,  named 
John  James,  bred  to  the  trade  of  a  wheelwright  and 
cart-maker,  could  also  act  as  carpenter,  bricklayer,  or 
in  almost  any  handicraft  connected  with  country  life. 
He,  however,  did  not  at  first  live  in  East  Burnham, 
but  occupied  a  tenement  in   Farnham  parish,  until  I 


THE    HAMLET    OF    EAST   BURNHAM.  157 

"  located"  him,  a  few  years  later,  in  a  house  which  I 
caused  to  be  built  (on  the  ruins  of  another  cottage) 
on  a  croft  adjoining  the  common,  bought  in  1844  of 
a  family  living  at  Beaconsfield. 

Besides  Hughes,  there  was  the  landlord  of  tlie 
little  alehouse  called  "  The  Crown,"  and  a  man  named 
Eyder,  who  got  his  living  by  attending  markets,  and 
again  selling  by  retail  various  produce,  such  as  oats, 
bran,  flour,  poultry,  pigs,  and  pigmeat — keeping  a 
horse  and  cart;  and  also  a  huckster's  shop  on  an  hum- 
ble scale.  These  formed  the  exceptions.  All  my 
other  neighbours  followed  husbandry  in  all  its 
branches,  including  woodcutting  and  hurdlemaking, 
thatching  and  sheepshearing,  &c.  We  could  not 
even  boast  of  a  smith  in  "  the  Liberty,"  though  one 
lived  hard  by,  in  the  adjoining  parish  of  Farnham; 
neither  had  we  a  baker ! — the  Burnham  baker  reiju- 
larly  bringing  bread  on  stated  days,  to  supply  the 
dwellers  in  East  Burnham,  only  a  few  of  whom  ad- 
hered to  the  old  practice  of  "  baking"  at  home.  The 
women  were,  here  and  there,  in  the  habit  of  hawking 
small  wood,  in  donkey  carts,  to  Eton  and  Windsor, 
distant  four  to  five  miles — buying  wood  in  the  copses, 
fetching  it  out,  and  cutting  it  up  at  home  in  little 
faggots,  called  "  pimps."  Sometimes,  I  am  afraid, 
the  faggots  were  made  not  wholly  out  of  such  wood, 
but  out  of  wood  stolen  by  the  urchins  out  of  the 
copses,  at  dusk — at  least  so  said  the  wood -overseers 
in  the  service  of  the  proprietors.  Again,  a  few  of 
my  cottagers'  wives  would  have  a  lace-pillow,  which, 
dui'ing  winter,  they  would  work  at — lace  being  a 
traditional  occupation  in  the  county  of  Bucks.  But 
after    the   year    1844,    or    thereabouts,    lace-making 


158  SOME    ACCOUNT    OF 

dropped  out  of  the  list  of  industrial  occupations — 
macliine-niade  lace  completely  supplanting  "  pillow- 
made"  by  its  low  price. 

The  women  of  East  Burnham  were,  for  the  most 
part,  hard-working,  decent,  and  good-hearted  crea- 
tures, and  friendly  neighbours:  labouring  in  the 
fields  at  stone-picking,  weeding  wheat,  reaping,  glean- 
ing, &c.,  and  going  out  to  help  wash  at  farmers'  and 
gentlefolks'  houses,  as  occasion  offered.  For  the  male 
portion  of  the  community  there  was,  commonly 
speaking,  a  constant  round  of  employment — some- 
what more,  indeed,  than  it  is  usual  for  rustic 
labourers  to  obtain.  The  vast  extent  of  woodland  in 
that  nei2"hbourhood  created  a  constant  demand  for 
woodcutters  when  hard  frost  and  snow  forbade  farm- 
ing operations.  Thrashing  machines  obtained  but 
slowly  among  the  farmers  round  East  Burnham,  who 
thus  furnished  long  thrashing  jobs,  at  piece-work  (or 
"by  the  grate")  to  their  men  in  hard  weather.  The 
immense  amount  of  hedge-rows  required  a  considerable 
outlay  to  keep  them  and  their  ditches  up ;  the  preserv- 
ing of  the  game  on  the  manor  absorbed  many  of  the 
men  as  watchers  and  under-keepers ;  and  furthermore, 
at  a  season  which  often  leaves  the  farm  hands  slack  of 
work — namely,  whilst  the  crops  are  ripening  after 
midsummer,  and  ha^^making  is  pretty  well  over — then 
would  our  people  fall  to  at  "  cherry  gathering ;"  a 
business  which,  in  a  good  "  bearing  time,"  keeps 
scores  of  "hands"  fully  employed.  The  country 
teems  with  fruit  in  every  direction,  and  some  idea 
may  be  framed  of  the  magnitude  of  the  dealings  in 
the  article  of  cherries  alone,  when  I  state  that  John 
James   (the  man  already  mentioned)  has  for  some 


THE  HAMLET  OF  EAST  BURNHAM.       159 

years  past  found  it  answer  to  spend  five  or  six  weeks 
in  Liverpool,  selling  to  retail  fruit-vendors  the  pro- 
duce of  the  district  round  East  Burnham — his  father 
buying  up  the  orchards,  distributing  his  "  gatherers" 
among  them,  and  dispatcliing  nightly  by  the  railway 
well-packed  baskets  of  cherries  to  his  son  at  Liverpool. 

The  women  meanwhile  earn  a  good  penny  at  straw- 
berry and  raspberry  gathering  in  the  market  gardens, 
chiefly  to  supply  the  demand  for  these  favourite 
fruits  on  the  part  of  the  eight  hundred  Eton  boys. 
Many  of  the  cottagers  keep  bees,  and  turn  another 
penny  in  this  way  at  ]\Iichaelmas. 

As  to  the  boys  of  our  hamlet,  they  need  never  be 
at  a  loss  for  work.  At  some  seasons  one  cannot 
obtain  a  boy  "  for  love  or  money,"  as  the  saying  goes. 
The  parents  usually  send  their  children  to  the  school 
(founded  by  the  generous  Mrs.  Coxe  for  the  benefit 
of  the  poor  of  the  hamlet  of  East  Burnham)  from  the 
age  of  six  to  eight  or  nine  years,  when  the  boys  go 
forth  to  farm  service,  seldom,  however,  quitting  the 
parental  roof;  for  the  modern  practice  of  farmers  is 
to  hire  boys  at  weekly  wages,  not  "  boarding"  them 
in  the  farmhouses,  as  was  the  usage  some  fifty  years 
since. 

Boys  are,  however,  hired  for  a  specified  term, 
occasionally,  receiving  a  certain  payment  weekly  for 
victuals  until  the  end  of  the  term,  when  the  residue 
is  paid  in  full.  This  arrangement  is  made  only  with 
the  best  boys  of  the  place,  because  the  employer 
wishes  to  make  sure  of  their  services — the  final  sum 
being  conditional  on  the  boy's  completing  his  time  as 
agreed ;  usually  one  year. 

The  girls  continue  at  school  longer  than  the  boys, 


160  SOME    ACCOUNT    OF 

altlioiif^:!!  what  they  learn  is  worth  mighty  little. 
After  they  are  able  to  read,  write,  and  cast  up  a  sum, 
little  more  is  gained,  except  a  slight  knowledge  of 
Scripture  history,  and,  perhaps,  the  elements  of 
needlework.  The  mothei'S,  however,  enjoy  the  ad- 
vantage of  being  "  rid"  of  the  children  for  many 
hours  of  each  day,  and  are  freed  from  the  necessity 
of  staying  at  home  to  look  after  them,  instead  of 
going  out  to  work.  As  the  girls  approach  the  age  of 
fourteen  or  fifteen,  they  get  out  to  service,  chiefly  in 
that  of  the  middle  classes,  such  as  farmers,  trades- 
men, and  innkeepers;  passing,  as  occasion  offers, 
later  in  life,  into  wives  of  young  men  of  their  own 
station,  frequently  of  their  own  parish.  Of  the 
chastity  of  this  part  of  East  Burnham  population  I 
may  not  boast.  As  in  most  other  rural  districts,  the 
3^oung  women  were,  in  some  instances,  mothers  before 
they  became  wives;  nevertheless,  the  young  men  show 
a  preference  for  correct  females  in  selecting  their 
partners  for  life,  and  I  am  warranted  in  adding,  that 
the  larger  number  of  my  poor  neighbours  possessed 
the  merit  of  being  honest,  well-conducted  wives  and 
careful  mothers,  as  they  likewise  were  hardworking, 
sober  women. 

JSow,  having  given  a  general  sketch  of  the  indus- 
trial condition  of  "  my  hamlet"  (as  I  used  to  call  it), 
the  reader  will  perceive  that  this  condition  placed 
the  labouring  folk  somewhat  liigh  in  the  scale  of 
comfort.  To  the  advantages  I  have  enumerated,  of 
sufficient  and  diversified  employment,  of  cheap  firing 
(for  the  wooded  district  around  East  Burnham  fur- 
nished a  constant  sup[)ly  of  broken  and  drift  wood 
for  the  women  to  collect,  and  the  woodcutters  always 


THE    HAMLET    OF   EAST   BURNHAM.  161 

carried  home  a  load  of  faggot  wood,  on  leaving  work, 
from  the  copses  in  winter),  must  be  added  the  annual 
distribution  of  clothing  made  to  the  inhabitants  of 
East  Burnham  at  Christmas,  to  the  amount  of  perhaps 
2>l.  to  3/.  IO5.  per  cottage,  in  pursuance  of  a  bequest 
made  by  the  kind  lady  so  often  named  in  this  memoir, 
Mrs.  Coxe.  She  left  a  sum  of  some  2660^.  Consols, 
as  a  fund  wherewith  to  enable  certain  trustees  to 
distribute  clothing  and  linen  to  her  poor  neighbours 
and  their  posterity. 

This  bequest,  however,  although  affecting  the 
interests  of  the  labouring  people  beneficially  to  a 
certain  degree,  has  proved  less  advantageous  to  them 
than  might  have  been  expected;  and  this  owing  to 
two  causes.  First,  the  cottages  which  (to  use  the 
phrase  current  in  the  hamlet),  "  carried  the  gift," 
were  sought  after  so  eagerly,  that  the  rents  demanded 
of  the  tenants  have  all  alono;  been  hio;her  than  the 
tenements  would  have  fetched  under  ordinary  cir- 
cumstances. Accordingly,  the  benefit  accruing  to 
the  cottagers  is  divided  between  them  and  the  owners 
of  their  tenements.  The  larger  number  of  these  is 
the  property  of  Lady  Grenville :  two  or  three  belong 
to  the  family  at  Beaconsfield  before  mentioned. 

I  had  built  three,  on  the  site  of  as  many  ruined 
dilapidated  abodes  which  I  found  in  the  place,  and 
one  belonged  (and  still  belongs)  to  Mrs.  Dancer.  But 
Lady  Grenville  has  suffered  no  less  than  five  tene- 
ments to  tumble  down,  from  sheer  decay,  since  my 
first  acquaintance  with  the  hamlet — three  in  the  lane 
near  "  Lock's  Bottom,"  one  near  the  "  Crown,"  and 
one  in  the  way  to  Up-end  Farnham,  not  far  from 
"  The  Conduit."      I  am  inclined  to  think  that  more 

M 


162  SOME    ACCOUNT   OF 

than  five  have  ceased  to  exist  since  Lord  Grenville 
came  to  the  property,  but  of  this  I  am  not  quite 
certain. 

Now  the  loss  of  five  cottages  out  of  the  small 
number  composing  our  hamlet,  has  had  the  effect  of 
driving  the  young  couples  to  settle  out  of  it,  and  to 
obtain  a  dwelling  at  a  distance;  also,  it  has  deprived 
five  labouring  men's  families  of  a  welcome  help; 
throwing  into  the  lap  of  the  actual  recipients  a 
greater  share  than  they  ought  to  receive,  and,  in  fact, 
a  greater  share  than  they  really  require :  inasmuch 
as  Mrs.  Carter  told  me,  in  1857,  that  she  had  been 
led  to  exceed  the  limits  of  her  legal  power,  and  thus 
to  bestow  blankets  upon  some  of  the  poor  who  stood 
in  need  of  no  farther  supply  of  clothing.  The  terms 
of  jMrs.  Coxe's  bequest  being  thus  in  some  sort 
infringed. 

Again,  for  want  of  cottages,  the  farmers  are  com- 
pelled to  engage  farm-labourers  living  at  a  consider- 
able distance  from  their  fields,  by  which  much  time 
is  lost  goino;  to  and  from  work,  and  additional  fatioue 
is  laid  upon  the  working  man,  who,  after  a  long 
summer's  day,  has  to  trudge  two  miles  or  more  to 
reach  his  own  roof-tree.* 

Three  very  small  tenements,  containing  as  many 
families,  were  erected  by  Lady  Grenville,  about  the 
year  1838,  one  of  which  is  devoted  to  the  holding  of 
the  day  school,  endowed  by  Mrs.  Coxe,  for  the  gratui- 
tous instruction  of  the  poor  children  of  the  hamlet. 


*  It  ought  not  to  be  forgotten  either  that  of  late  years,  our 
farmers  having  improved  in  their  knowledge  of  the  science,  more 
hands  have  been  needed  to  carry  on  farming  operations  than 
formerly. 


THE    HAMLET    OF    EAST    BURNHAM.  163 

The  interpretation  put  upon  Mrs.  Coxe's  will  by 
Mr.  Carter,  the  respected  vicar  of  Burnham,  and 
"  ex  officio"  one  of  the  trustees  under  the  charity,  was 
entirely  arbitrary;  some  cottages  lying  on  the  skirts 
of  "the  Liberty"  not  being  admitted  to  share  in  "  the 
gift,"  although  others,  equally  distant,  received  it. 
One  rule,  however,  was  laid  down,  which  has  been 
acted  upon  undeviatingly — viz. .that  no  new  tenements 
should  be  entitled  to  the  charity,  unless  built  on  the 
ruins  of  one  in  existence  at  the  period  of  Mrs.  Coxe's 
decease. 

Now,  the  cottages  being,  as  I  have  stated,  almost 
all  Lady  Grenville's,  and  some  of  them  old  de- 
cayed, half-rotten  dwellings,  unfit  for  a  decent  pea- 
santry to  inhabit,  the  question  naturally  arises, — 
how  is  it  that  Lady  Grenville  permits  the  hamlet 
to  become,  as  it  were,  depopulated,  by  the  dis- 
appearance of  its  cottages,  and  that  she  suffers 
those  which  remain  to  fall  out  of  repair,  although 
the  rent  which  is  paid  for  them  is  what  would  be 
considered  "  high"  ? 

This  question,  however,  is  only  one  out  of  many 
which  suggest  themselves  to  whoever  happens  to  take 
notice  of  the  general  aspect  of  things  in  the  Liberty 
of  East  Burnham.  With  equal,  if  not  greater,  reason 
would  the  visitor  ask  why  all  tlie  "  Common  gates" 
have  been  suffered  to  disappear,  so  that  cattle  turned 
to  pasture  on  the  common  stray  beyond  the  Liberty, 
and  trespass  on  private  lands?  Why  the  "pound" 
was  absolutely  useless  for  many  years,  for  want  of  the 
trifling  expenditure  which  it  was  the  duty  (as  it  was 
the  privilege)  of  the  Lord  of  the  Manor  to  bestow 
upon  it?     Why  the  dams  or   "pond-heads"  on  the 

M  2 


164  SOME    ACCOUNT    OF 

manor  were  left  to  fall  in,  letting  the  water  rush  out, 
and  so  destroy  the  passage  across  for  horse  or  foot 
wayfarers,  and  losing  a  store  of  water  useful  to  the 
residents?  Why  the  fann  buildings  were  not  repaired, 
the  fences  made  good  on  the  roadsides,  the  stiles  main- 
tained on  footways — the  tenants  enjoined  to  keep  their 
ditches  scoured  and  to  keep  the  highways  of  the 
Liberty  in  a  creditable  state?  Why — but  I  should 
never  finish  were  I  to  go  through  the  series  of  "  acts 
undone  which  ou2:ht  to  have  been  done"  in  reference 
to  this  neo'lected  district. 

The  current  impression  in  the  place  was  that  Lady 
Grenville  entertained  a  feeling  akin  to  spite  and  aver- 
sion towards  this  portion  of  her  estates ;  and  certainly, 
if  such  was  the  case,  no  one  could  wonder  at  it,  after 
learning  what  I  have  related,  concerning  the  mistaken 
calculation  which  her  husband  fell  into  in  purchasing 
the  reversion  of  it  at  so  high  a  rate.  Her  ladyship 
very  rarely  visited  the  hamlet,  and  I  never  heard  of 
her  setting  foot  in  any  one  of  the  cottages  or  farms 
upon  this  estate  during  the  twenty  years  of  my  con- 
nexion with  East  Burn  ham. 

I  hardly  exchanged  a  word  with  her  steward,  Mr. 
Bowman,  from  1839  to  1851.  I  frequently  tried  to 
see  him,  for  the  purpose  of  asking  his  assistance  in 
repairing  parts  of  the  causeways,  in  repressing  the 
abuse  of  pig  depasturing,  in  keeping  up  pond-heads,  in 
preventing  injury  being  done  to  the  old  trees,  in 
relieving  stoppages  of  the  "  conduit"  or  reservoir,  and 
many  similar  matters ;  but  on  no  occasion  could  I  obtain 
his  personal  co-operation.  The  pigs  were  suffered  to 
disfigure  the  whole  neighbourhood,  being  turned  out 
loose  without  rings  in  their  noses.     It  was  the  duty  of 


THE  HAMLET  OF  EAST  BURNHAM.       165 

the  steward  to  compel  the  owners  to  put  rings  in  them 
if  turned  loose,  and  to  cause  the  hogwarden,  or  "  hay- 
ward,''  or  "  howard"  (as  this  ancient  function  has  come 
to  be  designated),  to  impound  the  ringless  hogs.  No 
heed  was  taken  of  my  repeated  applications  for  the 
steward's  interference  on  this  point,  and  the  pigs  ran 
riot  over  "  the  Beeches,"  ploughing  up  whole  roods  of 
close  green  turf  every  autumn.  Not  only  hogs  be- 
longing to  inhabitants,  but  droves  of  these  animals, 
brought  from  miles  around,  came  grunting  into  the 
forest,  searching  for  the  beech-mast  for  weeks  to- 
gether, unchecked  by  the  manorial  officers.  The 
roads  in  the  Liberty  were  neglected,  and  suffered  to 
become  dis^iTaceful,  both  from  the  accumulation  of 
mud  and  from  deep  ruts.  The  charge  of  them  lay 
with  the  surveyor  of  the  highways  of  East  Burnhara 
Liberty,  or  "  Hallwards,"  as  it  was  frequently  called, 
after  its  ancient  name.  This  officer  was  chosen 
annually,  or  bi-annually,  by  the  parishioners  of  Burn- 
ham  in  vestry,  by  vote.  But  there  was  no  "  gentle- 
man" living  in  East  Burnham  after  Captain  Popple's 
death,  and  accordingly  the  office  fell  into  the  hands 
of  one  or  other  of  the  three  occupiers  of  land  in  the 
"Liberty;''  farmers  all,  who  "served"  in  rotation, 
levying  a  rate  upon  the  inhabitants  for  the  expense  of 
keeping  the  roads  in  repair.  The  rate  was  chargeable 
on  land  and  houses,  woodland  not  paying  highway 
rates.  Accordingly,  the  weight  of  the  charge  lay 
upon  the  farmers  themselves,  the  houses  contributing, 
of  course,  far  less  than  the  land.  The  few  acres  be- 
longing to  us  formed  but  a  slender  exception,  the 
whole  of  the  lands  being  rented  under  Lady  Gren- 
ville,  except  the  woods,  which  were  in  her  own  hands, 


166  SOME    ACCOUNT    OF 

and,  as  has  already  been  observed,  paid  no  rate  to  the 
highway's. 

Now,  the  interest  of  the  farmer  being  to  keep  the 
expenses  as  low  as  possible,  and  to  pay  as  little 
towards  them  as  he  could,  the  roads  became  hope- 
lessly bad,  in  all  parts  except  on  the  high  road 
between  Windsor  and  Beaconsfield,  which  was  main- 
tained in  tolerable  order,  out  of  respect  to  "  the 
parish,"  which  would  have  complained  of  any  short- 
comings on  that  portion  of  our  district.  In  vain  have 
I  remonstrated  with  the  surveyor  upon  the  condition 
of  the  roads.  So  long  as  there  was  nobody  but  the 
farmers  to  serve  the  office,  so  long  was  it  useless  to 
strive  for  an  improved  management.  The  ditches, 
rarely  "scoured,"  stood  full  of  stagnant  water,  the 
water  ran  over  the  roads,  and  wore  "  gutters"  in 
them,  though  an  hour's  work  would  have  cleared  a 
passage  down  the  ditch  at  the  side;  the  mud  was 
"  overshoes"  deep,  the  hedges  were  never  trimmed, 
the  trees  dripped  upon  the  roads  (Lady  Grenville's 
steward  prohibiting  their  being  "lopped"),  the  ruts 
were  deepened  by  the  heavy-wheeled  wains,  and 
in  short  there  was  widespread  indifference  to  the 
condition  of  all  the  bye-roads  around  East  Burnham. 
This  was  just  a  case  in  which  tlie  interposition  of  the 
owner  of  the  lands  would  have  proved  beneficial  to 
the  inhabitants  at  large.  But  the  saying,  "  Property 
hath  its  duties  as  well  as  its  rights,"  found  no  con- 
firmation at  the  hands  of  Lady  Grenville.  And,  as 
far  as  my  information  extended,  the  steward  confined 
his  labours  to  the  producing  of  as  much  rent  and 
profit  as  it  was  possible  to  extract  from  this  much 
neglected  estate.     Not  only  Avere  new  tenements  not 


THE    HAMLET    OF    EAST   BURNHAM.  167 

built  in  the  place  of  old  ones,  but  space  was  grudged 
for  pigsties,  which,  in  the  case  of  the  dwellers  in  the 
"  courtyard,"  were  placed  close  to  the  cottage  doors, 
forming  an  ensemble  strictly  resembling  a  cluster  of 
Irish  "  cabins." 

The  only  really  active  exertions  made  by  Lady 
Grenville's  steward  were  directed  to  the  repression  of 
poaching,  which  practice  was  visited  with  constant 
penalties;  offenders  being  summoned  before  the 
justices  on  every  occasion  of  detection,  and  punished 
accordingly.  Lady  Grenville  deriving  a  consider- 
able income  from  the  shooting  on  her  manors,  she 
naturally  sought  to  secure  the  exclusive  right  over 
the  game,  which,  however,  subsisted  upon  the  neigh- 
bouring lands ;  the  lessee  of  the  manor  being  under- 
stood to  pay  the  value  or  damage  of  the  same  to  the 
respective  occupants. 

Agahi,  in  the  village,  or  rather  hamlet,  of  East 
Burnham,  stood  an  alehouse,  which  in  the  days  of 
"  Squire  Popple,"  sold  Avholesome  beer,  being  a  "  free- 
house,"  as  it  is  termed.  The  labouring  folk  say  that 
the  beer  was  usually  very  good,  and  sometimes  home- 
brewed. When  Lady  Grenville  took  possession  of 
the  property,  this  alehouse  was  let  on  lease  to  a 
brewer,  who  naturally  offered  more  rent  than  a 
private  individual  could  afford  to  pay;  and  from  that 
day  to  this  (1858),  the  poor  people  have  had  noticing 
but  inferior,  and  in  some  sort  unwholesome,  beer 
supplied  to  them.  A  beer-shop  on  the  "common 
side"  sells  beer  of  similar  quality,  neither  better 
nor  worse :  both  being  tenants  under  two  different 
brewers,  and  obliged  to  vend  their  "  mixture,"  and 
nothing  else.        A  real  advantage  would  be  gained 


168  SOME    ACCOUNT    OF 

by  the  cottagers  at  East  Burnliam,  were  Lady 
Grenville  to  let  "  The  Crown"  to  a  tenant  paying 
his  3'early  rent  to  herself ;  but  she  might  not  ob- 
tain quite  so  high  a  rent  in  this  way,  and  thus  the 
poor  people  feel  and  say  that  they  must  drink  bad 
beer,  in  order  to  profit  the  Lady  of  the  Manor.  I 
know  that  one  of  the  most  general  complaints  against 
this  lady's  management  has  always  been,  that  she 
let  the  only  public-house  to  a  brewer,  and  deprived 
the  cottagers  of  the  chance  of  good  liquor. 


I  have  already  stated  that,  when  we  took  up  our 
quarters  in  East  Burnham,  no  other  "gentlefolk" 
resided  in  the  Liberty.  There  subsequently  came  to 
live,  in  Mrs.  Dancer's  cottage,  a  retired  military 
officer,  named  Rivers;  but  he  was  an  invalid,  and 
scarcely  made  an  exception  to  my  statement. 

I  lived  in  the  house,  formerly  Mrs.  Coxe's,  from 
1838  to  the  end  of  the  year  1850,  when  we  resolved 
to  give  up  this  residence,  letting  the  house  to  the 
widow  Lady  Shadwell,  and  her  daughters.  Lady 
Shad  well  dying  in  1852,  the  house  reverted  to  our 
possession,  and  in  1853  we  sold  it,  along  with  the 
twenty-four  acres  of  land,  three  cottages,  and  the 
timber,  to  Mr.  Ludlam,  who  shortl}''  after  came  to 
reside  upon  the  same  with  his  family. 

"  The  Park"  had  been  purchased  by  us  from  Mr. 
Robert  Gordon  in  the  year  1844  :  we  buying  up  the 
remainder  of  Mr.  Dancer's  term,  and  thereby  acquir- 
ing full  possession  of  the  estate.  There  was  no  house 
whatever  on  this  little  property,  consisting  of  eighty- 
seven    acres    in  a  ring-fence.      A    market-gardener, 


THE  HAMLET  OF  EAST  BURNHAM.       169 

named  John  Timblick,  lived  in  what  had  once  been 
an  "  orangery,"  which  was  situated  in  the  old  man- 
sion's kitchen-garden.  This  he  rented  under  Mr. 
Gordon,  and  continued  to  rent  under  me :  cultivating 
fruit  and  vegetables  for  the  supply  of  Eton  and 
Windsor  demand. 

But  in  1852  1  caused  a  small  Elizabethan  house 
to  be  built  in  this  "  Popple's  Park,"  and  also  a  range 
of  farm  buildings  and  a  labourer's  cottage;  and 
letting  the  land  for  seven  years  to  Mr.  Wm.  Webster 
(a  farmer  already  occupying  a  farm  in  our  Liberty, 
under  Lady  Grenville),  I  came  myself,  in  January, 
1853,  to  this  house,  where  I  passed  (at  intervals) 
about  the  half  of  every  year.  During  the  period 
of  my  absence  from  East  Burnham — viz.,  from 
January,  1851,  to  January,  1853 — there  had  arisen 
some  circumstances  which  somewhat  disturbed  the 
relations  between  the  inhabitants  and  the  Lady  of 
the  ^lanor.  Much  of  the  heath  and  turf  on  East 
Burnham  common  had  been  cut  and  carted  away 
by  persons  living  out  of  the  Liberty,  for  sale.  The 
practice  at  length  became  so  notorious,  that  the 
steward  interfered  to  prevent  it,  placing  watchers 
for  that  purpose.  He  next  proclaimed  a  regulation 
that  no  turves  should  be  cut,  even  by  the  cottagers, 
except  in  boggy,  swampy  places.  Since  these  turves 
cost  much  more  labour,  both  to  cut,  to  drj^,  and  to 
cart  off,  than  the  turves  cut  on  solid  ground,  this 
regulation  was  very  loosely  observed,  and  in  conse- 
quence, matters  were  already  growing  uncomfortable 
on  this  point  when  I  resumed  my  intercourse  with 
the  hamlet.  In  1854,  I  ordered  my  usual  lot  of  turves 
to  be  cut,  by  a  labouring  man  accustomed  to  the  work, 


170  SOME    ACCOUNT    OF 

and  these  were  duly  brought  home  and  housed.  In 
1855  I  proceeded  in  like  manner. 

About  that  period  Mr.  Bowman,  the  steward,  was 
dismissed  from  his  office,  and  we  were  informed  that 
in  his  stead  a  new  steward  had  been  appointed,  who 
was  to  live  in  Cornwall,  and  only  visit  Dro[)more  oc- 
casionally :  to  hold  courts,  receive  rents,  and  the  like. 
Meanwhile,  a  youth  named  Forbes  announced  him- 
self to  the  inhabitants  as  acting  steward,  or  deputy, 
whose  duty  it  was  to  watch  over  the  interests  of  the 
manor,  but  who  was  bound  to  refer  all  important 
matters  to  the  gentleman  at  the  "  Land's  End." 

In  the  summer  of  1^56  I  ordered  a  man  named 
Armon  (one  of  our  husbandry  labourers  in  the 
Liberty),  to  cut  1000  turves  for  me,  in  the  parts 
prescribed  by  Lady  Grenville's  steward,  on  the 
waste. 

Not  long  after  these  turves  were  cut  and  set  up  to 
dry,  my  gardener  came  and  told  me  that  Mr.  Forbes 
had  caused  my  "  lot,"  together  with  turves  cut  by 
some  other  parties  (cottagers),  to  be  carted  away  and 
burned.  Tliis  proceeding,  taken  without  any  notice 
or  remark  as  towards  myself,  I  regarded  as  oiFensive 
in  itself;  and  it  further  occasioned  me  to  institute 
some  inquiries  among  the  elders  of  the  hamlet,  relative 
to  the  ancient  practice  of  "  the  Liberty,"  and  the 
supposed  riglits  of  the  ratepayers  and  freeholders 
living  within  the  Manor  of  Halhvards.  The  result  of 
these  inquiries  I  have  embodied  in  a  former  portion 
of  this  memoir.     (See  page  155). 

Among  the  inhabitants  of  our  hamlet,  a  ver}^  general 
feeling  arose  against  the  arbitrary  acts  of  Lady  Gren- 
ville's steward,  and  I  was  strongly  tempted  to  endea- 


THE  HAMLET  OF  EAST  BURNHAM.       171 

vour  to  obtain  some  redress  on  behalf  of  the  cot- 
tagers. Although  I  cared  little  or  nothing  for  the 
privilege  of  cutting  turves  myself,  it  seemed  to  me  a 
fit  occasion  to  interfere,  if  only  to  arrive  at  a  more 
definite  understandino'  as  to  what  rights  belon":ed  to 
the  Lady  of  the  ^lanor,  and  what  rights  belonged  to 
the  inhabitants;  especially  the  owners  of  land  in  the 
Liberty,  or  freeholders,  of  whom  there  were  three  or 
four  besides  myself. 

I  accordingly  drew  up  and  forwarded  a  memorial  to 
Lady  Grenville,  stating  the  circumstances  which  had 
occurred,  and  requesting  her  ladyship  to  communicate 
to  us  the  exact  conditions  which  she  considered  herself 
justified  in  claiming,  in  regard  to  the  inhabitants,  on 
the  subject  of  turf,  sod,  peat,  sand,  and  the. like; 
the  memorial  was  signed  by  Mr.  Grote,  and  by  some 
other  parties,  occupiers  of  land,  interested  in  the 
question. 

After  the  lapse  of  a  fortnight  we  received  a  reply, 
penned,  as  we  understood,  by  the  steward  who  lived 
at  the  estate  belonging  to  Lady  Grenville  in  Cornwall, 
of  which  reply  I  here  annex  a  copy : 

Boconnoc,  12tli  August,  1S56. 

Gentlemen, — I  am  authorized  to  say,  that  Lady  Grenville  has 
received  the  Memorial,  dated  July  28Lh,  1856,  signed  by  certain 
"  inhabitants  and  occupants  of  land  in  East  Burnham,"  in  which 
the  memorialists  state  that  certain  lots  of  turf,  cut  by  some  of  them 
in  the  exercise  (as  they  say)  of  their  long  enjoyed  rights  on  East 
Burnham  Common,  having  been  recently  removed  and  burnt  without 
any  previous  notice  to  them  that  sucii  a  step  would  be  taken,  they  ask 
on  what  grounds  it  proceeds  ? 

And  then,  supposing  the  grounds  of  the  recent  proceeding  to 
have  been,  that  turf  has  been  cut  either  in  greater  quantity  than  the 
understood  rights  of  each  occupant  warrant,  or  by  persons  not  duly 
authorized,  or  in  an  unsuitable  and  unusual  portion  of  the  common, 
the  memorialists  "  submit  that  the  limits  which  her  ladyship  (as  Lady 


172  SOME    ACCOUNT    OF 

of  the  Manor)  is  disposed  to  prescribe  ought  to  be  distinctly  specified 
and  made  known." 

Brfore  answering  the  question  as  to  tlie  grounds  of  the  recent 
proceeding,  Lady  Grenville  begs  to  remind  the  memorialists,  that 
Eiist  Burnham  Common  is  not  a  common  of  turbary.  No  one, 
therefore,  in  virtue  of  his  being  an  inhabitant  and  occupant  of  land 
in  East  Burnham,  has  any  right  to  cut  turves  on  the  common  with- 
out permission  of  Lady  Grenville  (as  Lady  of  the  Manor):  that 
permission,  within  certain  limits,  has  been  accorded  to  the  cottagers 
of  East  Burnham,  to  whom  a  little  peat-turf  for  fuel  was  a  great 
boon.  The  limit,  as  regards  place,  was  confined  to  the  bogs,  and 
as  regards  quantity,  it  was  not  to  exceed  annuallj^  to  each  cottage, 
two  thousand  turves,  each  turf  to  be  not  more  than  12  in.  long  by 
6  in.  wide  by  3  in.  thick  ;  and  her  ladyship  is  surprised  to  learn 
that  the  memorialists  should  be  ignorant  as  to  what  those  limits 
were,  as  one  or  more  of  them,  she  believes,  was  present  at  a  Court 
Baron  when  the  limits  prescribed  were  distinctly  specified  and 
made  known.* 

Some  of  the  parties,  however,  to  whom  the  before-mentioned 
privilege  was  accorded,  and  possibly  others  to  wliom  it  was  not 
accorded,  instead  of  confining  themselves  to  the  bogs  for  peat-turf, 
have  at  various  times  of  late  gone  on  other  parts  of  the  con.mon, 
and  have  skimmed  ofi'  the  surface,  to  the  great  injury  of  the  pas- 
turage of  the  common  ;  and  on  one  of  the  aggressors  being  summoned 
before  the  magistrates  for  the  trespass,  he  set  up  a  claim,  as  of  right, 
to  do  what  he  had  done. 

Under  these  circumstances  itwas  that  the  turf  found  upon  the  common, 
not  on  bog  ground,  was  removed  ;  and  Lady  Grenville  cannot  but 
thiuk  that  the  memorialists  themselves  must  consider  the  act  perfectly 
justifiable. 

Ihere  was  no  intention  of  withdrawing  the  privilege  which  has 
been  accorded  to  the  cottager,  so  long  as  he  did  not  abuse  it;  but  that 
which  was  permitted  as  a  favour,  must  not  be  claimed  by  the  recipients 
as  a  matter  of  right. 

I  am,  gentlemen. 

Your  obedient  servant, 

Wm.  Pease. 

To  Messrs.  W.  Bayley,  W.  Williamson,  and  others. 

Ihe  tenor  of  Lady  Grenville's  reply  gave  us  to 
understand  that  she  acknowledged  no  right  or  privi- 
leges as  regarded  the  waste  land  in  East  Burnham,  on 
the  part  of  any  one  but  herself.     That  she  did  not 

*  See  page  155. 


THE  HAMLET  OF  EAST  BURNHAM.       173 

intend  to  forbid  tlie  practice  of  cutting  turf,  subject 
to  the  stipulations  already  laid  down,  but  would  con- 
tinue to  permit  turf  to  be  cut  for  fuel,  in  the  propor- 
tions which  had  for  many  years  been  allowed  to  the 
inhabitants  of  East  Burnham.  The  document  declares 
the  common  not  to  be  a  "  common  of  turbary,"  and 
Lady  Grenville  assumes  the  exclusive  jurisdiction 
over  the  whole  district,  to  the  entire  abrogation  of  all 
other  rights  or  privileges  on  the  part  of  any  one  else. 
If  she  grants  leave  to  take  away  any  portion  of  the 
soil,  such  as  turf,  sand,  gravel,  peat,  or  the  like,  it  is 
as  a  matter  of  favour,  which  may  be  annulled  at 
pleasure. 

This  construction  of  the  rights  pertaining  to  the 
Lady  of  the  Manor  was  far  from  being  satisfactory  to 
the  memorialists.  Few  or  none  of  the  neis^hbours 
yielded  their  conviction  to  Lady  Grenville's  asser- 
tions of  unbounded  and  undivided  leo^al  risfht  over 
the  common;  but  since  she  had  declared  her  readiness 
to  allow  of  the  turf  being  cut  and  used  for  fuel,  we 
judged  it  on  the  whole  better  to  suffer  the  question 
to  rest  where  it  was.  When  the  summer  of  1857 
drew  nigh,  I  directed  my  gardener  to  get  1000  turves 
cut  as  heretofoi'c.  The  people  on  the  common-side 
informed  him  that  the  young  man  who  acted  as 
deputy  to  the  steward  had  recently  laid  down  a  new 
regulation :  namely,  that  no  one  should  cut  turves 
except  such  men  as  were  in  the  employ  of  Lady 
Grenville,  and,  as  such,  responsible  to  the  steward. 
I  accordingly  employed  a  man  coming  under  that 
category,  and  in  due  course  carted  home  ray  turves. 

In  a  few  weeks  after  this,  I  sent  a  cart  and  horse 
to  bring  in  a  small  number  of  green  turves  for  my 


174  SOME    ACCOUNT    OF 

jrarden  erlgins:,  which  I  had  had  cut  on  a  corner  of 
the  common.  Whilst  my  people  were  loading  the 
turves,  they  were  accosted  by  the  young  man,  Forbes, 
wdio  said  that  "  Madam  Grote  had  no  right  to  take 
turf  oif  the  common,"  and  that  "  lie  had  a  great  mind 
to  seize  the  cart,  and  to  take  the  men  employed  there- 
with before  the  justices  for  trespassing,"  and  so  forth. 
However,  he  limited  his  proceedings  to  angry  talk, 
and  the  men  carted  home  the  turf.  A  few  days  after 
this,  Mr.  Forbes  came  to  my  residence,  and  inquired 
for  me.  I  happened  to  be  out,  but  returning  within 
a  short  space,  I  found  the  young  man  awaiting  me  in 
the  garden  next  the  road. 

He  said  he  was  come  to  complain  of  my  cutting 
turf  witiiout  asking  his  leave.  I  replied  that  I  did 
not  conceive  it  at  all  necessary  to  ask  leave  every 
time  I  required  a  few  sods  of  turf;  that  Lady  Gren- 
ville  had,  many  years  ago,  sent  me  her  authority  to 
cut  turves,  sods,  to  take  peat,  sand,  or  gravel  off  the 
common;  that  I 'had  never  abused  tliis  licence,  but, 
on  the  contrar}^,  had  taken  very  moderate  advantage 
of  her  permission  in  every  respect;  and  that  I  did  not 
deem  it  my  duty  to  send  and  ask  leave  to  help  myself 
on  every  occasion  which  might  arise.  Mr.  Forbes 
rejoined  that  Lady  Grenville  was  now  resolved  to 
enforce  strictly  her  manorial  rights,  and  that  "  he 
should  fine  me  on  her  behalf  for  having  committed  a 
trespass."  I  ansv.'ered  that  he  had  better  try  to  fine 
me,  and  that  it  might  perhaps  lead  to  a  legal  investi- 
gation of  her  rights,  which  would  be  attended  with 
useful  results.  Mr.  Forbes  was  civil,  and  nowise 
wanting  in  respectful  manners,  and  appeared  to  be 
acting  simply  in  conformity  with  instructions  received 


THE    HAMLET    OE    EAST    BURNHAM.  175 

from  his  principals.  I  beard  nothing  more  from  this 
quarter,  but  was  informed  by  a  person  whose  authority 
was  undeniable,  that  Mr.  Forbes  was  of  late  in  the 
habit  of  affirming  "  that  Mrs.  Grote  now  bought  the 
turf  from  him^  and  thus  acquiesced  in  the  absolute 
right  of  the  Lady  of  the  Manor  over  the  soil." 

Whilst  Mr.  Forbes  was  within  my  gates,  on  the 
occasion  above  referred  to,  he  passed  into  the  stable- 
yard,  and  looked  into  the  wood-house.  Seeing  the 
turves  stacked  up  therein,  he  asked  Howlett,  my  gar- 
dener, "Whose  turves  are  these?"  '"Mine,"  replied 
Howlett.  "  Ah!  they  are  yours,  are  they?  that's  all 
very  well,  but  Mrs.  Grote  lias  no  right  to  any  turves 
for  herself.    Only  the  poor  are  allowed  to  have  them." 

On  the  gardener's  reporting  this  conversation  to 
me,  I  blamed  him  for  saying  that  the  turves  were  his, 
which  was  speaking  wi'ongl}^  The  turves  were  cut 
for  me,  paid  for  by  me,  and  carted  home  by  my 
people,  and  I  used  a  portion  of  them  for  my  green- 
house stove-fire.  Howlett,  like  all  the  common  folk, 
standing  in  fear  of  Lady  Grenville's  displeasure,  had 
said  what  he  did  in  the  amiable  design  of  shielding 
his  mistress  from  it. 

After  this  incident,  which  seemed  to  me  to  require 
some  notice,  I  conversed  with  more  than  one  of  the 
inhabitant  householders  of  East  Burnham,  in  the  view 
of  ascertaining  the  sentiments  of  the  hamlet  in  re- 
ference to  the  enlarged  claims  recently  advanced  on 
the  part  of  Lady  Grenville  over  "  the  waste."  I 
found  that  but  one  feeling  existed  on  the  subject, 
which  was  that  of  extreme  dissatisfaction,  and  sense 
of  injustice  towards  the  general  interests  of  the  resi- 
dents, as  attempted  to  be  practised  by  Lady  Gren- 


176  SOME    ACCOUNT   OF 

ville's  steward.  The  cottagers  complained  also,  that 
carts  belonging  to  persons  living  at  a  distance  were 
continually  sent  to  carry  away  from  the  common 
quantities  of  peat,  sand,  fallen  leaves,  and  turf,  by 
permission  of  the  steward.  They  specified  several 
parties,  among  whom  were  the  Duchess  of  Sutherland, 
Sir  Richard  Colt  Hoare,  Mr.  Bragg  and  Mr.  Brown 
(both  nurserymen,  of  Slough),  and  others.  They 
complained  that  these  parties  were  allowed  to  benefit 
by  the  common,  although  they  contributed  nothing  to 
the  "  i-ates,"  or  to  the  maintenance  of  the  roads,  gates, 
or  fences  in  the  Liberty,  whilst  one  of  them — being 
ratepayers — could  not  take  a  single  barrow-load 
without  going  to  Dropmore  to  ask  leave.  They  felt, 
in  short,  that  Lady  Grenville  was  seeking  to  establish 
an  absolute  rather  than  a  manorial  property  in  the  soil : 
giving  away  the  same  out  of  the  parish,  in  any  quan- 
tities she  thought  fit,  and  preventing  any  one  but 
herself  from  using  the  soil  unless  specially  authorized 
by  herself.  Coupling  the  information  thus  collected 
with  the  evidence  I  had  already  obtained  as  to  the 
old  usages  and  practice  of  the  manor,  I  felt  a  certain 
impulse  to  probe  the  case  further,  and  to  endeavour 
to  put  Lad}^  Grenville  on  the  necessity  of  proving 
the  right  she  claimed  over  the  common  and  "  waste." 
I  found,  moreover,  that  a  "  court"  had  been  held  out 
of  the  limits  of  the  manor,  that  is,  at  her  own  farm 
at  Brookend;  and  that  at  this  same  court  (held  in 
1857),  though  the  jury  was  composed  of  persons  en- 
titled to  be  upon  it,  viz.,  occupiers  of  land  in  East 
Burnham,  the  business  was  carried  on  within  closed 
doors.  I  have  been  informed  tliat  both  these  facts 
were    contrary   to    law,  and  would   invalidate    and 


THE  HAMLET  OF  EAST  BURNHAM.       177 

nullify  any  rule  or  orders  passed  at  this  same 
court. 

At  a  court  held  in  1855,  in  "The  Crown"  ale- 
house, at  East  Burnham,  Mr.  Grote  officiated  as 
foreman;  two  or  three  other  occupiers  of  land  in 
"  The  Liberty"  serving  also  as  jurymen.  Mr.  Bowman 
attended,  as  representative  of  Lady  Grenville,  and 
opened  the  court  in  the  customary  manner.  This,  I 
believe,  was  the  last  court  held  by  Mr.  Bowman  for 
and  in  the  Hamlet  and  Liberty  of  East  Burnham. 

To  return  to  my  purpose  of  pressing  this  question 
— so  important  to  the  humble  inhabitants — I  would 
willingly  have  taken  steps  to  this  end,  but  I  found 
myself  deterred  by  the  fear  of  bringing  down  upon 
their  heads  the  vengeance  of  the  steward.  He  had 
latefy,  it  seems,  explicitly  given  them  to  understand 
that  whoever  moved  in  the  matter,  or  furnished  in- 
formation tending  to  call  in  question  Lady  Grenville's 
supremacy,  should  be  immediately  turned  out  of  their 
tenements.  This  menace  had  the  effect  of  tying  up 
the  tongues  of  all  her  tenants,  and  of  inducing  them 
to  wish  that  no  farther  "  stir"  should  be  made.  The 
whole  of  the  inhabitants,  it  may  be  said,  rented  cot- 
tages under  Lady  Grenville,  with  the  exception  of  my 
gardener,  Mr.  Ludlam's  three  tenants,  "  The  Stag " 
beer-house,  and  one  or  two  cottages  on  the  common 
side.  Under  these  considerations,  knowing  how 
grievous  a  penalty  the  quitting  a  tenement  would  be 
to  any  East  Burnham  resident,  I  was  obliged  to  lay 
aside  whatever  intention  I  had  before  cherished  of 
seeking  to  aid  my  poor  neighbours  in  this  matter: 
and  this  brings  my  history  to  the  close  of  the  year 
1857. 

N 


178  SOME  ACCOUNT  OF 

It  may  be  asked,  why  did  I  not  make  a  direct  ap- 
peal to  Lady  Grenville  in  person  and  invite  her  to 
state  her  own  view  of  the  respective  rights  in  ques- 
tion? The  reason  was,  that  Lady  Grenville  had 
reached  the  age  of  eighty-four  years;  an  age  at 
which  it  would  have  been  indiscreet  to  attempt  to 
open  up  a  discussion  involving  a  variety  of  small 
particulars,  and  relating  to  long  bygone  days,  and 
in  which,  moreover,  she  probably  would  have  felt 
disinclined  to  engao-e. 

The  situation  in  which  the  large  estate  of  Lady 
Grenville  found  itself  at  the  period  of  which  I  have 
been  treating,  is  one  not  unfrequently  exhibited  in 
England,  but  which  is  not  only  unfavourable  to  the 
interest  of  the  parishioners,  and  of  those  who  are  in 
any  way  dependent  upon  the  property,  but  is  in  a 
minor  degree  inconvenient  to  all  residents  in  its 
vicinity.  An  aged  landed  proprietor,  delegating  her 
authority  over  her  lands  and  manors  to  persons  of  an 
inferior  station  in  life,  who  cannot  take  the  same  \dew 
either  of  public  interests  or  of  the  credit  attaching 
to  the  condition  of  a  gentleman,  as  the  proprietor 
herself — such  proprietor,  I  say,  is  often  construed  to 
behave  in  a  way  which  she  would  not  sanction  if  she 
were  in  full  possession  of  her  active  faculties. 

Thus  it  was  with  Lady  Grenville.  Her  steward 
not  unfrequently  acted  on  her  behalf  in  a  manner 
to  draw  ujDon  her  most  unpleasant  animadversions; 
among  which  instances  I  might  adduce  the  affair  of 
the  annual  payment  of  25/.  out  of  the  Huntercombe 
estate  for  the  use  of  the  pooi' ;  the  upshot  of  which 
was,  to  compel  Lady  Grenville,  who  liad  resisted  sucli 
payment  for  years,  to  make  it  good,  with  arrears,  to 


THE  HAMLET  OF  EAST  BUKNHAM.  179 

the  parish  authorities,  about  the  year  1852.  I  can- 
not suppose  that  Lady  Grenville  would  have  sanc- 
tioned the  acts  which  produced  so  much  ill-will  in  my 
district,  had  she  been  informed  of  what  was  going 
forward.  On  the  few  occasions  when  I  have  taken 
the  liberty  of  communicating  directly  with  her  Lady- 
ship, she  has  always  shown  a  polite  readiness  to  for- 
ward my  wishes,  and  an  obliging  disposition.  In  the 
matter  of  the  water  supply,  for  example :  a  few  years 
ago  her  steward  repeatedly  promised  that  repairs 
should  be  made  in  the  conduit  pipes  on  which  we 
depended  for  our  water.  But  month  after  month 
passed  over  without  even  a  move  on  his  part,  and  I 
had  no  resource  but  to  address  a  remonstrance  to 
Lady  Grenville  herself  She  replied  without  delay, 
in  a  business-like,  courteous  letter ;  ordered  the  work 
to  be  executed,  and  it  was  put  in  hand  forthwith,  at 
her  cost.     This  was  in  Mr.  Bowman's  time. 

Of  the  young  man  who  acted  as  subordinate 
steward  I  never  had  any  cause  to  complain  per- 
sonally. When  I  have  represented  to  him  any  abuse 
of  the  privileges  of  the  inhabitants  of  the  Liberty,  he 
has  endeavoured  to  correct  it,  especially  in  the  case 
of  the  herds  of  hogs  which  latterly  overran  the  Burn- 
ham  Beeches,  rooting  up  (as  I  have  stated)  many 
roods  of  turf  in  search  of  beech-mast  and  acorns, 
befouling  the  pathways  with  their  filth,  and  even 
molesting  timid  people  by  their  audacious,  defiant 
approach.  Mr.  Forbes  did  try  to  impound  many 
pigs  which  were  found  to  be  without  rings ;  but  the 
difficulty  of  driving  them  out  of  the  woodland  was 
well-nigh  insurmountable  when  once  they  had  got  in. 

The  origin  of  all  this  lay  in  the  destruction   of 

N  2 


180  SOME   ACCOUNT   OF 

the  eight  or  ten  gates  which  formerly  protected  the 
Liberty  against  intruding  animals,  many  of  which 
were  extant  when  1  first  came  to  East  Burnham.* 
Gates  having  sufficient  latches  or  nooses  would  have 
kept  out  all  unauthorized  pigs.  It  was  the  duty  of 
the  ratepayers  to  compel  the  surveyor  of  the  roads 
to  uphold  these  gates.  But  as  the  surveyors  were 
tenants  of  Lady  Grenville,  so  were  the  ratepayers, 
with  hardly  an  exception.  Accordingly,  every  item 
of  expenditure  which  could  be  evaded,  was  evaded; 
Lady  Grenville  could  have  compelled  the  surveyor 
to  do  his  duty,  for  he  held  his  farm  as  tenant  at  will. 
The  parish  might  have  appointed  a  surveyor  other 
than  one  of  Lady  Grenville's  tenants,  it  is  true;  but 
there  was  only  Mr.  Grote  who  was  eligible,  as  a  rate- 
payer of  any  consequence.  He,  however,  naturally 
shrank  from  this  sort  of  trouble,  being,  moreover, 
only  an  occasional  resident  in  East  Burnham;  and 
there  remained  no  other  individual  at  once  eligible 
and  capable  of  discharging  the  office. 

Thus  the  whole  system  under  which  the  district 
was  administered  revolved  round  Lady  Grenville, 
represented  by  a  paid  steward  (living  300  miles 
away  in  Cornwall),  and  he  again  by  a  young  deputy, 
instructed  to  keep  down  expenses  above  all,  and  to 
maintain  "  rights."  The  poor  were  left  without  any- 
body to  care  for  them,  except  an  occasional  visit  from 
the  curate,  all  trembling  at  the  nod  of  "  the  steward;" 
whilst  the  farmers,  backed  by  this  functionary,  managed 
the  whole  of  the  affiiirs  of  the  hamlet  between  them. 
The  labouring  people  entertained  an  unpleasant  feel- 


*  five  of  tliem  were,  certainly,  perhaps  more. 


THE  HAMLET  OF  EAST  BURNHAM.       181 

ing  towards  the  farmers,  who,  as  they  considered, 
disregarded  their  interests,  and  discharged  their  men 
at  short  notice  wlienever  it  suited  them.  Some  of 
the  farmers  even  gave  no  "harvest  supper;"  and  I 
am  afraid  it  must  be  avowed  that  between  these 
classes  no  great  friendhness  subsisted.  That  the 
men  frequently  gave  their  masters  cause  for  dissatis- 
faction there  can  be  no  doubt;  still,  as  a  body,  I 
really  cannot  rate  the  character  of  the  husbandry  la- 
bourers of  our  hamlet  at  a  low  level,  compared  with 
those  of  other  districts  of  this  county.  "  Drink,"  of 
course,  formed  the  leading  vice  of  the  class;  but  it 
should  be  remembered  that  the  working  men  in 
general  have  no  amusements  (cricket,  even,  being 
forbidden  on  Sundays,  their  only  leisure  day),  and 
that  the  gossip  and  chatter  of  the  alehouse  are  the  only 
agreeable  excitement  which  their  ignorant  minds 
receive,  from  one  year's  end  to  another."* 

I  may  say,  for  my  own  part,  that  whatever  kind- 
ness, and  care,  and  good  offices,  I  bestowed  upon  my 


*  For  several  years  after  I  first  settled  in  East  Burnham,  cricket 
■was  regularly  played  durinjr  the  summer  on  Sunday  afternoons,  by 
all  the  men  and  lads  of  the  vicinity.  The  common,  indeed,  pre- 
sented a  lively  and  pleasing  aspect,  dotted  with  parties  of  cheerful 
lookers-on,  vrith  many  women  and  children  and  old  persons,  among 
whom  we  ourselves,  and  our  servants,  not  unfrequently  mingled. 
But  about  the  year  1842 — 3,  some  boys  of  our  hamlet,  having 
been  taken  up  and  carried  before  the  Beaconsfield  Bench,  for  play- 
ing cricket  on  a  Sunday,  and  fined  "fifteen  shillings  each,  or  six 
weeks  of  Aylesbury  gaol,"  the  practice  of  playing  cricket  was  effec- 
tually checked  in  East  Burnham.  The  young  men  and  boys, 
having  thenceforth  no  recreative  pastime,  spent  their  afternoons  in 
the  beershops,  or  played  at  skittles  in  public-houses,  or  prowled 
about  the  lanes  looking  for  birds'-nests,  game-haunts,  hare  "runs," 
and  the  like ;  while  the  common  was  left  lonely  and  empty  of 
loungers. 


182  SOME  ACCOUNT  OF 

humble  neighbours,  during  the  period  of  my  residence 
among  them,  was  gratefully  felt;  that  they  bore  me 
unfeigned  respect,  and  would,  I  think,  have  repaid  my 
interest  in  them  by  any  services  in  their  power  to 
render  me. 

When  I  quitted  the  cottage  in  the  Park,  never 
more  to  return  to  it,  the  cottager  women  were  prone 
to  exclaim,  "  Ah !  there  will  be  no  one  left  to  care 
for  us  when  '  Madam'  is  gone !" 


I  disposed  of  my  little  property,  called  (by  cour- 
tesy) East  Burnham  Park,  in  the  spring  of  1858, 
after  having  resided  in  the  hamlet — with  one  short 
interval — for  twenty  years. 

The  oft-recurring  vexations  incident  to  the  position 
I  occupied — viz.,  that  of  a  lady  residing  in  the  centre 
of  a  population  dominated  by  a  young  servant,  armed 
with  the  authority  of  the  owner  of  all  the  land, 
manorial  privileges,  and  cottages  (nearly  all)  in  my 
district :  from  whose  arl)itrary  control  no  appeal  could 
be  made,  on  account  of  Lady  Grenville's  advanced 
age; — these  oft-recurring  vexations,  I  confess,  made 
me  feel,  latterly,  uncomfortable.  Being  of  a  temper 
liable  to  fret  under  the  spectacle  of  wrong-doing, 
without  having  the  smallest  power  to  prevent  it;  the 
invariable  opposition  offered  by  Lady  Grenville's 
Steward  to  my  endeavours  to  effect  measures  of 
public  utility — the  grievous  neglect  of  the  highways 
precluding  me  from  taking  walking  exercise  in  winter, 
and  the  advance  of  years  rendering  me  less  disposed 
to  exert  myself,  as  formerly,  in  behalf  of  the  general 
welfare  of  the  place, — all  this  concurred  to  make  me 


THE  HAMLET  OF  EAST  BURNHAM.       183 

resolve  to  retire  from  the  neiofhbourliood :  at  the  same 
time,  I  retain  a  sincere  interest  in  the  prosperity  and 
well-doing  of  the  inhabitants,  among  whom  so  large  a 
portion  of  my  life  has  been  spent. 


A  feeling  naturally  suggests  itself,  after  learning 
the  circumstances  which  have  been  here  related 
(concerning  an  obscure  fraction  of  rural  life  in  an 
agricultural  province  of  England),  that  surely  some 
remedy  ought  to  have  been  available  for  the  evils 
set  forth !     I  am  afraid  there  was  none. 

Mr.  Eyre  was  eighty  years  old  when  he  died. 

Mr.  Sayer,  or  "  Captain  Saver,"  as  he  was  styled, 
was  unmarried,  had  infirm  health,  and  led  a  secluded 
life:  letting  everything  "go  its  own  way"  till  his 
death,  also  at  an  advanced  age. 

Captain  Popple  latterly  grew  full  of  years,  and 
having  only  a  life-interest  in  the  estates,  he,  in  his 
turn,  cared  mighty  little  about  keeping  them  in 
order.  Thus,  for  forty  years  and  more,  the  duties  of 
administration,  in  regard  to  this  large  property,  were 
neglected;  mainly  owing  to  the  incapacity  and  indif- 
ference of  its  two  last  possessors.  Then  comes  Lady 
Grenville,  winding  up  the  list  with  a  hireling  superin- 
tendence, and  a  nominal  government,*  resembling 
that  of  Irish  "  absentees"  under  the  old  regime. 

Among  the  numerous  blessings  attending  on  free 
institutions  in  a  country,  some  defects  naturally  co- 
exist. An  unbounded  control  over  land  or  house 
property  possessed  by  individuals,  leads  to  equally 


*  The  responsible  "  deputy"  living  at  the  "  Land's  End." 


181  SOME   ACCOUNT  OF 

unbounded  power  over  those  persons  who  occupy  and 
rent  such :  often  comprising  the  whole,  or  nearly  the 
whole,  pojjulation  of  a  district.  When  the  proprietor 
devotes  his  (or  her)  attention  to  the  general  direction 
of  affairs  on  their  estate,  both  the  tenantry  and  the 
neighbours  have  usually  reason  to  be  content ;  but 
when  a  proprietor  is  obliged  to  entrust  such  super- 
intendence to  servants,  and  is  unable  or  indisposed 
to  listen  to  complaints  of  mismanagement,  then  the 
general  Avelfare  of  the  estate  usually  suffers.  Parish 
authorities  may  in  certain  cases  offer  resistance. 
Burnham  parish  actually  did  so  in  the  year  1836, 
when  they  went  to  law  with  Lady  Grenville,  carried 
it  against  her  at  the  assizes,  and  obliged  her  to  repair 
a  certain  roadway  near  her  residence.  Nevertheless, 
since  parish  officers  in  rural  districts  are  commonly 
composed  of  occupiers  and  cultivators  of  land,  for 
the  most  part  "  rented ;"  so  their  interest  leads  them, 
as  a  general  rule,  to  pa}^  obedience  to  the  Avill  of  the 
owners  of  property  in  their  neighbourhood:  The 
Liberty  of  East  Burnham  was  not,  I  regret  to  sa}^, 
under  the  general  administration  of  the  parish.  It 
paid  its  own  rates,  contributing  nothing  to  the  high- 
way rate  of  Burnham  Parish.  Its  officers,  accord- 
ingly, were  of  necessity  occupiers  of  land  within  tlie 
Liberty.  In  point  of  fact,  Lady  Grenville  stood  in  a 
relation  all  but  seignorial^  or  feudal,  to  the  Hamlet  and 
District  of  East  Burnham.* 

There  is  at  present  no  help  for  such  a  state  of  things. 
But  a  time  must  and  will  come,  as  society  becomes 


*  So  did  tlie  former  "  Lords,"  only  that  these  resided  amoDg,  and 
cared  for  their  "  vassals." 


THE  HAMLET  OF  EAST  BURNHAM.       185 

more  exio-ent  as  to  "  risflits"  and  "  duties,"  when 
owners  of  real  property  shall  be  brought  under  some 
kind  of  legislative  control,  so  far  as  regards  the  public 
interest.  Acts  of  Parliament  will  ere  long,  I  expect, 
establish  authority  to  quicken  the  activity  of  rural 
functionaries  on  matters  involving  health,  conveni- 
ence, morality,  and  decency  in  village  communities; 
and  although  I  myself  regard  the  principle  of  "  cen- 
tralization" with  anything  but  favour,  yet  I  cannot 
but  think  it  must  sooner  or  later  be  invoked,  if 
English  landlords  will  not  arouse  themselves  to  a 
more  conscientious  discharge  of  their  social  obliga- 
tions. 


CONCLUSION. 

Among  the  most  salient  points  of  difference  which 
are  traceable  between  the  former  and  the  more  recent 
condition  of  East  Burnham,  is  to  be  noted  the 
lessened  reliance  of  the  poor  upon  their  richer  neigh- 
bours. I  entertain  little  doubt  that,  formerly,  the 
opulent  occupants  in  East  Burnham  not  only  bestowed 
largely  of  their  abundance  upon  the  labouring  people, 
but  that  the  relations  between  these  two  classes  were 
both  familiar  and  kindly,  as  was  the  case  in  bygone  days 
in  most  country  places.  Yet  I  am  by  no  means  sure 
that  the  cottagers  are  less  well  off  now  than  they  were 
formerly.  In  fact,  the  comfort  of  the  labouring  man 
is  better  attended  to  in  many  ways  at  the  present 
time;*  and,  'bating  the  difficulty  of  obtaining  good 


*  The  parochial  provision  for  medical  attendance,  since  1835,  counts 
for  much  in  the  present  condition  of  the  poor/ 


186  SOME  ACCOUNT  OF 

beer  to  drink,  perhaps  his  material  condition  is 
higher  in  most  respects.  I  should  say  that  the  thing 
to  be  regretted  is,  the  absence  of  the  ties  of  social 
contact  between  rich  and  poor,*  which  absence  has 
led  to  a  bad  state  of  feeling  in  the  minds  of  the  latter, 
and  has  fostered  a  jealous  mistrust  on  their  parts  of 
the  class  above  them.  But  again,  I  say,  for  this  I  can 
see  no  remedy.  The  beneficent  dispositions  of  the 
smaller  gentry  can  operate  to  but  little  advantage 
amongst  the  poor,  beyond  the  mere  temporary  increase 
of  their  comfort.  To  influence  the  labouring  class, 
you  ought  to  have  the  power  to  raise  their  moral 
condition,  to  improve  their  habits,  to  encourage  rea- 
sonable requests,  to  show  them  a  kindly  interest, 
and  to  foster  justice  between  labourers  and  their 
masters;  all  which  the  possession  of  landed  pro- 
perty enables  you  to  do,  if  the  Will  exist.  But  so 
long  as  the  poor  feel  the  pressure  of  property  pri- 
vileges, unaccompanied  by  compensating  benefits,  no 
efforts  on  the  part  of  individuals  can  alter  their  mode 
of  viewing  the  relations  between  themselves  and  the 
rich.  What  that  mode  is,  most  residents  in  rm-al 
districts  can  tell;  but  it  varies  according  to  the 
character  of  the  "  Lords  of  the  soil,"  by  which  the 
behaviour  of  poor  residents  is  more  influenced  than  it 
is  often  conceived  to  be. 

I  forbear,  however,  to  open  up  a  question,  the  bear- 
ings of  which  are  too  wide-spread  to  be  considered 
here.  Every  half-century  brings  Avith  it  some  modi- 
fication of  the  framework  in  which  society  is  encased, 


*  Mainly  owing  to  the  circumstance  of  there  being  no  resident  owner 
possessing  the  power  of  which  I  speak  below. 


THE  HAMLET  OF  EAST  BURNHAM.       187 

and  we  ouglit  to  endeavour  both  to  preserve  unim- 
paired such  portions  as  are  fitted  to  all  times,  and  to 
adapt  our  changes,  as  far  as  possible,  to  the  immu- 
table principles  on  which  human  society  is  based.  And 
perhaps  the  most  important  of  these  is,  the  mainte- 
nance of  a  cordial  amity  between  the  employers  of 
labour  and  the  labourers  themselves.  I  have  a 
sincere  value  for  the  character  of  our  husbandry 
labourer,  and  believe  that,  under  ordinary  good  treat- 
ment, he  fulfils  his  duty  with  conscience,  and  even 
zeal  for  his  master's  interest.  Moreover,  he  is  sensible 
to  acts  of  kindness  and  sympathy  in  a  greater  degree 
than  it  is  usual  to  give  him  credit  for — more  so,  in 
fact,  than  to  acts  of  charity,  in  the  common  accepta- 
tion of  that  word. 


ON  ART,  ANCIENT  AND  MODERN. 


ON  ART,  ANCIENT  AND  MODERN. 


This  vast  theme,  to  the  illustration  of  which  the 
finest  intellects  and  the  most  assiduous  study  have 
been  for  ages  directed,  can  hardly  be  approached 
without  temerity  by  an  amateur,  whose  knowledge 
must  be,  necessarilj^  superficial  and  incomplete,  com- 
pared with  that  possessed  by  professional  students. 
As,  however,  I  have  been  invited  to  aid  in  weaving 
a  "garland"  of  literary  leaves,  destined  to  be  laid  at 
the  feet  of  our  illustrious  sovereign,  I  will  do  my  best 
to  justify  the  compliment. 

Whilst  renouncing  the  pretension  to  offer  any  novel 
or  striking  views  on  the  subject,  I  propose  to  take  a 
short  survey  of  the  comparative  position  occupied  by 
the  arts,  and  of  the  character  imparted  to  them  by 
cotemporary  influences,  at  different  stages  of  the 
history  of  mankind. 

That  the  function  of  art  is  to  act  upon  the  imagina- 
tion through  the  senses,  is  a  proposition  familiar  to 
all  of  us.  The  precise  form,  however,  in  which  this 
action  shall  exert  itself  must  depend  upon  the  state 
in  which  the  popular  imagination  of  the  period 
happens  to  be.  In  an  early  stage  of  social  de- 
velopment the  prevalent  ideas  are  few,  simple,  and 
deep-seated.  The  ancient  architecture  of  the  world 
accordingly  combines  grandeur  and  simplicity  with 


192       ON  ART,  ANCIENT  AND  MODERN. 

perfect  adaptation  to  its  ends.  In  pictorial  efforts 
the  primitive  features  of  interest  ever  present  in  early 
societies  constitute  the  subjects;  as  war,  hunting,  and 
pompous  ceremonials.  In  proportion  as  the  course  of 
Imman  thought  advances,  subjects  multiply.  The 
introduction  of  female  figures  attests  a  certain  im- 
provement in  the  social  habits.  Farther  on,  a  concep- 
tion of  grace  united  with  strength  is  engendered  by 
the  habitual  contemplation  of  the  unclothed  human 
body;  and  the  portrayal  of  this,  under  diversified 
action,  comes  to  be  regarded  with  pleasure.  It  was 
among  the  small  Greek  communities  that  this  power 
of  producing,  in  marble  and  on  canvas,  examples  of 
the  finest  forms  of  both  sexes  reached  its  climax.  An 
attentive  study  on  the  part  of  their  artists  of  the 
living  beauty  and  symmetry  continually  present  to 
their  eye,  was  of  incalculable  importance  in  the  culture 
and  practice  of  imitative  art.  To  this  they  super- 
added the  closest  devotion  to  the  technical  branch  of 
their  art;  the  "  treatment,"  the  disposition  of  drapery, 
the  composition  and  character  of  their  figures.  The 
minute  study  of  external  configuration  did,  in  fact, 
with  the  Greek  sculptors,  supply  the  absence  of  ana- 
tomical science;  and  it  may  admit  of  a  question 
whether  a  knowledge  of  this  would  have  enhanced 
the  effect  or  the  accuracy  of  their  delineations;  sucli 
was  the  familiarity  of  their  eye  with  the  situation  and 
functions  of  the  muscles,  and  with  the  mutual  rela- 
tions of  the  osseous  structure.  The  sources  from 
whence  we  derive  our  widest  acquaintance  with  the 
pictorial  gemus  of  the  ancient  Greeks,  are  their  vessels 
of  earthenware,  to  which  may  be  added  a  small 
number  of  fresco  paintings.     In  the  urns  and  vases, 


ON   ART,    ANCIENT   AND   MODERN.  193 

of  which  innumerable  specimens  are  to  be  found  in 
public  collections,  and  many  in  private  dwellings,  tlie 
subjects  almost  exclusively  consist  of  men,  women, 
and  animals,  of  which  endless  groups  are  arranged, 
illustrative  of  habits,  manners,  and,  sometimes  even, 
of  passions;  not  unfrequently  the  mythology  of  tlio 
heathen  world  furnislies  the  matter  of  the  composition, 
and  nothmg  can  surpass  the  charm  which  is  present 
in  these  poetical  representations  when  executed  by 
the  best  artists  of  the  period. 

In  the  relics  of  ancient  Greece,  then,  are  to  be 
found  the  highest  examples  of  that  branch  of  art  which 
is  devoted  to  the  human  form  and  its  attributes. 
That  nations,  sprung  into  existence  since  that  time, 
have  reached  considerable  excellence  in  art,  is  indis- 
putable ;  but  not  one  has  arrived  at  equal  mastery 
with  the  Greeks,  in  the  creative  vein  of  sculpture. 
To  enter  upon  a  speculative  disquisition,  as  to  the 
causes  which  gave  rise  to  this  acknowledged  supre- 
macy, would  be  a  task  too  comprehensive  for  tlie 
present  occasion.  If  I  may  be  permitted  to  express 
an  opinion,  it  is  that  the  two  main  sources  whence 
this  supremacy  took  its  rise,  were — 1.  The  peculiar 
cast  of  the  Greek  mind,  demanding,  as  it  did,  to  be 
occupied  with  the  study  of  man,  to  the  exclusion  of 
the  rest  of  creation,  and  thus  craving,  at  the  hands  of 
art  ministers,  exhibitions  of  the  human  effigy  under 
interesting  aspects,  suggestive  of  some  dominant 
sentiment,  Avhether  heroic,  religious,  or  amorous;  and, 
2.  The  advantages  enjoyed  by  the  artists  of  constant, 
familiar  observation  of  the  nude  figure,  whether  under 
the  excitement  of  active  games  or  in  the  varied  atti- 
tudes of  repose  and  recreation. 

o 


194  ON   ART,    ANCIENT    AND    MODERN. 

The  Greeks,  it  must  be  remarked,  took  no  delight 
in  contemplating  the  beauty  of  the  external  world, 
or  in  what  is  commonly  termed  the  "  Poetry  of 
Nature."  Man,  in  his  corporeal  and  physical  aspects, 
and  Man,  as  a  social  and  intellectual  being,  seem 
to  have  absorbed  the  attention  of  artist,  dramatist, 
and  thinker  respectively,  among  that  remarkable 
people. 

Under  the  Roman  dominion,  the  character  of  tlie 
arts  of  sculpture  and  painting  lost  much  of  their 
dignity,  becoming  subservient  to  the  degraded  tastes 
and  corrupted  manners  which  prevailed  among  that 
people.  When,  in  the  fourth  century,  tlie  pro- 
tection of  the  Roman  Emperor  was  accorded 
to  the  Christian  form  of  worship,  the  artists  from 
various  quarters  who  flocked  to  the  new  capital, 
Byzantium,  shared  the  patronage  of  the  Pagan  witli 
that  of  the  Christian  world;  so  that,  for  some  con- 
siderable time,  a  mixed  style  of  art  obtained  the 
ascendancy  :  blending  the  still  extant,  though  impure, 
types  of  Grecian  civilization  with  the  Oriental  style 
of  treatment;  and  pictures  and  frescoes  abounded, 
blazing  with  colour  and  glittering  with  meretricious, 
and  even  with  metallic,  ornament. 

After  the  sixth  century,  the  gradual  increase  and 
spread  of  Christianity  enabled  its  professors  to  substi- 
tute paintings  illustrative  of  their  own  sacred  origin 
and  history  for  the  representations  of  subjects  familiar 
to  the  older  world.  Such  few  vestio-es  as  remain  to 
us  of  these  primitive  efforts  are,  of  course,  injured 
and  defaced;  but,  viewed  as  paintings,  they  could 
never  have  been  other  than  barbarous  productions. 
Passing  over  the  feejjle  endeavours  made  during  the 


ON   ART,    ANCIENT    AND    MODERN.  195 

dark  ages  to  keep  alive  the  embers  of  art,  as  serving 
both  to  kindle  and  to  propagate  the  religious  senti- 
ment, we  find  so  early  as  the  eleventh,  and  notably  in 
the  twelfth  century,  a  marked  progress,  of  which  the 
Church  was  naturally  the  chief  promoter,  in  the  form 
and  character  of  Christian,  or  Pure  Art.* 

The  subjects  on  which  the  painters  of  this  period 
occupied  their  skill,  partook  of  the  religious  feeling 
to  an  almost  exclusive  degree.  And  this  concentra- 
tion of  the  powers  of  the  pencil  on  one  vein  of  senti- 
ment, produced  in  these  works  a  simplicity  of  design, 
and  profound  devotional  expression,  together  with  a 
certain  naivete  of  composition.  Qualities  which  have 
always  commanded  the  homage  of  connoisseurs, 
although  not  generally  attractive  to  the  unlearned. 

Through  successive  phases,'  such  as  an  inquiring- 
student  mil  find  no  difficulty  in  tracing  from 
Cimabue  onwards,  the  capacity  for  expressing  deep 
sentiment  gradually  allied  itself  with  an  improved 
faculty  of  composition  and  skill  of  hand,  until  the 
Umbrian  and  Florentine  painters  carried  this  divine 
art  to  a  point  of  perfection  never  since  attained ;  their 
works  having  continued  to  be  regarded  as  models  of 
excellence,  with  admiration  and  emulous  imitation,  by 
each  successive  age. 

*  In  a  work  on  Italian  art,  recently  published  in  Paris,  the  author, 
M.  Charles  Clement,  mentions,  as  bein^^  among  the  most  striking  efforts 
of  the  eleventh  century,  some  of  the  mural  pictures  in  mosaic  work, 
especially  those  of  Sicily  and  Venice  : — "  Ces  gigantesques  figures  a 
demi  barbares,  dessinees  sans  ai-t,  qui  n'ont  ni  modele  ni  perspective, 
placees  contre  les  parois,  et  dans  le  fond  de  vastes  edifices  obscurs,  les 
remplissent  de  leur  presence.  Elles  resplendissent,  sur  leur  fond  d'or, 
d'uu  eclat  mysterieux  et  terrible  ;  et  si  le  but  de  I'art  religieux  est  de 
frapper  vivement  I'imagination,  je  ne  pense  pas  qu'il  I'ait  jamais  plus 
completement  attieut  que  dans  les  mosaiques," 

o2 


196       ON  ART,  ANCIENT  AND  MODERN. 

Although  23ainters  of  unquestionable  genius  and 
Avide-spread  fame  continued  to  enrich  European 
edifices  and  £>-alleries  durins:  a  considerable  number  of 
years,  it  is  generally  admitted  that  Italian  art,  after 
the  sixteenth  century,  underwent  a  gradual  decline; 
insomuch  that  the  glories  of  the  pencil  and  the 
chisel  were,  in  the  seventeenth,  assigned  to  other 
lands. 

The  sculptors  of  Germany,  and  the  painters  of  the 
Low  Countries,  together  with  a  few  eminent  masters 
among  the  French,  took  a  prominent  lead  in  their 
respective  departments,  producing  works  which  con- 
tinue to  enjoy  a  deservedly  high  repute  to  this  day. 
And  it  is  easy  to  understand  how  that  the  arts,  no 
longer  exclusively  devoted  to  the  sustentation  of 
religious  faith,  but  encouraged  by  the  laity  with 
liberal  hand,  broke  into  a  variety  of  channels — 
secular,  historical,  voluptuous,  arcliitcctural,  festal, 
and  the  like.  Landscape  painting,  too,  assumed  a 
more  important  character,  and  began  to  display  the 
charm  and  captivation  of  which  it  is  avowedly  capable. 
Thus,  the  increase  of  wealth,  the  multiplication  of 
objects  of  curiosity,  and  of  means  of  enjoyment,  con- 
tributed to  diversify  the  productions  of  art,  and  to 
engender  new  styles;  at  the  same  time,  by  tliis  active 
movement,  the  earnest,  meditative  compositions  of  the 
early  painters  became  much  less  sought  after.  Tlie 
tone  of  the  period  was  changed. 

During  the  eighteenth  century  no  country  Avould 
seem  to  have  produced  better  painters  than  the 
British;  our  native  artists  maintaining  a  creditable 
position  in  that  walk  of  art,  though  the  sculptors  of 
the  Continent  were  confessedly  superior  to  our  own, 


ON    ART,    ANCIENT   AND    MODERN.  197 

and,  I  am  afraid,  continue  to  be  so.  The  works  pro- 
duced in  the  latter  portion  of  the  century  seem  to  rise, 
rather  than  decline,  in  public  estimation,  especially  in 
respect  to  portraits,  a  branch  of  art  in  which  the 
moderns  scarcely  reach  the  standard  of  their  pre- 
decessors. However,  the  rich  products  of  the  easel 
in  the  nineteenth  century  surpass,  in  most  other 
respects,  those  of  the  previous  period.  Stimulated  by 
the  growing  appetite  of  the  community  for  art,  accom- 
panied by  an  extraordinary  increase  of  the  purchasing 
power,  the  painter  of  modern  days  has  invented  new 
methods,  employed  the  science  of  chemistry  to  improve 
his  colours,  and  cultivated  fresh  fields  in  choosing 
his  subjects.  The  foreign  schools  have  like- 
wise developed  considerable  activity,  and  many  of 
their  professors  exhibit  a  dexterity  of  handling,  a 
correctness  of  drawing,  and  a  finish  which  command 
unqualified  admiration.  Yet,  with  these  painters,  as 
with  us,  high  art  is  in  some  sort  eclipsed  by  general 
subjects  and,  especially  amongst  the  French,  by  such 
as  are  connected  wdth  battles  and  victories. 

As  to  the  predominant  taste  of  the  English  in 
matters  of  art,  it  would  puzzle  the  most  attentive 
observer  to  characterize  it  suitably;  so  multiform  are 
the  fruits  of  the  pencil  in  our  day.  I  will  venture, 
nevertheless,  to  employ  one  epithet,  (which  indeed 
seems  applicable  to  modern  feeling  in  general,)  and 
say  that  it  inclines  to  the  realistic  in  art.  Even  in 
pictures  of  a  religious  class,  we  may  observe  how  far 
this  element  has  superseded  the  ideal  and  the  pathetic. 
Pious  ecstasies,  eloquent  agonies,  are  no  longer  in 
demand;  the  sober  Protestant  form  of  faith,  conjoined 
with    amiable    and    homely   forms    of    sympathy — 


198  ON   ART,    ANCIENT   AND   MODERN. 

domestic  incidents  and  every-day  interests — such  arc 
the  subjects  which  command  the  attention  and  ensure 
the  gaze  of  "  the  multitude,"  rich  and  poor,  of  our 
time.  And  these  predominate  through  the  range  of 
modern  artistic  productions,  reflecting  indeed  very 
correctly  the  tone  in  which  popular  serial  litera- 
ture has,  for  some  ten  or  twenty  years  back,  been 
composed. 

"  The  applause  of  the  exquisite  few,"  said  Wilkie, 
in  one  of  his  published  letters,  "  is  better  than  that  of 
the  ignorant  many.  But  I  like  to  reverse  received 
maxims.  Give  me  the  many  who  have  admired,  in 
different  ages,  RaiFaelle  and  Claude."  On  which 
passage,  Mr.  Leslie,  in  his  own  memoirs,  published  in 
1860,  comments  thus: — "  But  have  the  many^  in  any 
age,  admired  RafFaelle  and  Claude?  I  certainly 
believe  not."  .  .  .  And  again,  Leslie  remarks  that, 
"  Wilkie's  works  were  popular  from  the  first,  because 
the  public  could  understand  his  subjects,  and  natural 
expression  is  always  responded  to.  But  the  beauty  of 
his  composition,  the  truth  of  his  '  effects,''  the  taste  of 
his  execution,  were  no  more  felt  by  the  multitude 
than  such  qualities  are  felt  in  any  class  of  painting,  by 
any  but  those  Avhose  perceptions  of  art  arc  cultivated. 
.  .  .  An  artist  must  belong  to  the  multitude  to 
please  the  multitude." 

In  these  remarks  I  own  I  am  disposed  to  concur, 
whilst  guarding  myself  against  being  supposed  to  dis- 
parage the  taste  of  "the  multitude."  It  is  certahily 
a  most  pleasing  circumstance  that  so  large  a  portion 
of  our  countrymen  and  countrywomen  should  indulge 
a  liking  for  art.  Nevertheless,  a  faculty  of  nicely 
discriminating  between  true   and  false  greatness  in 


ON  ART,  ANCIENT  AND  MODERN.        199 

painters  can  only,  in  my  judgment,  be  exercised  by  a 
comparatively  small  class  amongst  us — composed  of 
individuals  who  possess  leisure,  opportunities  of  travel 
and  of  study,  aptitude  for  observation  and  comparison, 
and  a  natural  disposition  to  derive  enjoyment  from  the 
contemplation  of  objects  of  art.  On  them  the  duty 
rests  of  upholding  the  eternal  principles  on  which  true 
art  is  based.  English  amateurs — from  Royalty 
downwards  to  the  merchant — have  always  fostered 
the  arts;  not  alone  encourao-ino;  livini?  artists,  but 
coming  forward,  with  alacrity,  to  possess  themselves 
of  really  valuable  specimens  of  bygone  times,  when 
offered,  at  intervals,  in  the  market.  And  the  English 
Government  also  displays  unremitting  zeal  in  the 
acquisition  of  works  calculated  to  encourage  the 
public  to  interest  themselves  in  the  higher  excellences 
of  painting.  It  would  be  matter  of  real  gratification 
to  feel  that  these  could  be  exemplified  in  the  perform- 
ances of  modern  professors.  Let  us  hope  that  such 
will  be  forthcoming  at  no  distant  day. 

The  very  narrow  space  into  which  it  has  been 
requisite  to  compress  this  sketch,  precludes  the 
addition  of  farther  remarks  suggested  by  the  actual 
condition  of  art,  and  the  influence  of  opinion  bearing 
upon  it  in  this  country.  I  must  content  myself  with 
saying  that  if,  indeed,  "  the  many,"  now  form  the  bulk 
of  the  purchasing  class,  and  bestow  the  widest  fame 
upon  professors  of  art,  it  may  safely  be  added  that 
never  were  "  the  many  "  so  well  served  as  now.  For 
every  variety  of  taste,  a  painter  brings  the  supply; 
(often,  indeed,  creating  it ;)  yet  the  teeming  abundance 
of  artistic  talent — diffusing  itself,  as  it  docs,  along 
countless    channels,   and    offering    meritorious    and 


200  ON    ART,    ANCIENT    AND    MODERN. 

attractive  works  in  all  styles, — seems  destined,  in 
some  degree,  to  supplant  the  cnltivation  of  the 
noble  and  elevated  type.  If  each  period  of  liistory 
bears  its  characteristic  stamp,  surely  in  none  has 
the  impress  of  contemporary  feeling  and  thought 
been  more  discernible  than  in  the  art,  and  I  must 
jDcrmit  mj^self  to  add,  the  literature  of  fiction,  of  our 
own  era. 

It  may  be  fairly  presumed,  I  think,  that  the  impor- 
tant step  taken  in  a  high  quarter,  within  these  few 
years,  to  improve  the  means  of  art  education  among 
the  people,  was  owing  to  a  perception  of  the  tendencies 
above  indicated.  To  furnish  to  the  humble  youthful 
student,  gratuitously,  assistance  in  forming  a  taste  for 
the  higher  attributes  of  art,  and,  next,  in  carrying 
even  into  the  material  products  of  the  country  some 
traces  of  their  refining  influence,  was,  indeed,  a 
project  dictated  by  a  discerning  comprehension  of  the 
value  of  sound  elementary  study.  The  foundation  of 
the  South  Kensington  Museum,  due  in  great  part  to 
the  Prince  Consort's  agency,  may,  it  is  to  be  hoped, 
operate  as  a  counterpoise  to  the  causes  which  for  some 
considerable  period  would  seem  to  have  modified  and, 
in  a  measure,  vulgarized  the  character  of  British  Art. 
That  relish  for  striking  eftect,  both  of  colour  and 
expression,  for  exquisitely  high-wrought  finish,  and 
for  melo-dramatic  composition,  which  now  pervades 
the  community,  may  possibly  be  one  day  superseded 
by  a  preference  for  loftier  qualities  in  painting. 
Should  such  a  change  arrive,  we  may  safely  ascribe 
much  of  it  to  the  salutary,  the  instructive,  study  of 
the  masterpieces  of  all  kinds  and  all  countries,  ancient 
and  modern,  which  are  to  be  seen  in  our  principal 


ON   ART,    ANCIENT   AND   MODERN.  201 

national  depositories:  accompanied  and  seconded  by 
the  lessons  of  competent  professors  under  the  direction 
of  the  managers  of  the  Kensington  Museum,  working 
in  harmony  witli  the  great  schools  of  the  Royal 
Academy. 

August,  1861. 


\_Beprintedfi'om  ike  "  Victoria  Heffia."] 


VARIOUS    PAPERS 

CONTBIBUTED   TO   THE 

SPECTATOR"    WEEKLY    iNEWSPAPER. 

1845—1852. 


POMMERSFELDEN. 

Coblentz,  September,  1845. 
I  WANT  to  tell  you  ul3out  Pommersfelden,  a  place  I 
alluded  to  on  a  recent  occasion  ;  and  which  is  not 
one  of  the  "  King  of  Bohemia's  seven  castles,"  but 
one  amono^  several  real  chateaux  belono;ino;  to  the 
noble  family  of  Schonborn, — a  name  widely  reputed 
in  Bavaria,  or,  to  speak  more  precisely,  in  old  Fran- 
conia,  where  it  is  situate. 

About  seven  or  eight  English  miles  out  of  the  main 
road  leading  from  Wurtzburg  to  Bamberg,  and  in  a 
direct  line  between  the  last-named  city  and  Neustadt, 
there  stands  a  vast  and  imposing  edifice,  built  about 
the  commencement  of  the  last  century  by  Lothair 
Francis,  Count  Schonborn,  Bishop  of  Bamberg,  and 
Archbishop  of  Mainz,  Chancellor  of  the  German 
Empire,  and  Lord  knows  what  beside;  who,  in  addi- 
tion to  the  princely  revenues  derived  from  these 
high  offices,  inlieritcd  the  estates  of  Pommersfelden 
from  a  Count  Truchsess,  his  kinsman,  on  the  death  of 
this  nobleman  in  1710.  Lothair  Francis  was  a  man 
of  remarkable  abilities,  and  enjoyed  a  high  reputation 
as  a  statesman,  jurist,  and  patron  of  the  arts;  with 
which  he  was  himself  extremely  well  acquainted, 
especially  with  architecture.  Desiring  to  apply  a 
portion  of  his  wealth  to  the  erection  of  a  palace,  or 
"  schloss,"  suited  to  the  dignity  of  his  family,  of  Avhich 
he  found  himself  the  leadinof   member — a  monument 


206  POMMERSFELDEN. 

that  should  honour  the  memory  of  liis  generous  kins- 
man, he  commenced  this  undertaking,  in  1711,  after 
the  design  of  Loyson,  a  Jesuit,  doctor  and  professor 
of  philosophy,  and  Chancellor  of  the  University  of 
Bamberg,  an  eminent  dilettante  of  the  period.  The 
style  of  architecture  employed  is  of  the  character 
which  was  then  coming  into  vogue,  and  which  had 
recently  been  mtroduced  by  Louis  the  Fourteenth  in 
building  his  palace  of  Versailles.  The  plan  of  the 
edifice  may  be  described  as  that  of  the  letter  E.  In 
the  hollow  of  the  centre  is  placed  the  magnificent 
entrance-hall  and  staircase,  which  for  lofty  propor- 
tions and  elegance  of  design  may  challenge  any  vesti- 
bule in  Europe.  The  size  of  this  truly  regal  residence 
may  be  guessed  at  when  I  mention  that  we  passed 
through  four  large  rooms  occupying  a  part  of  the 
principal  floor  on  the  Northern  front  (the  other  part 
being  appropriated  to  the  library) — making,  I  should 
say,  one  hundred  feet  in  length — and  next,  through 
twelve  rooms  on  the  West  front,  one  of  which  was  a 
splendid  banquet  "  salle,"  floored  with  marble,  forty 
feet  high,  and  not  less  than  sixty  feet  long.  To  add 
that  there  is  a  chapel  attached  to  the  "  schloss,"  were 
needless,  Franz  Lothair  being  an  ecclesiastic  of  the 
hio-hest  rank.  But  the  circumstance  of  its  contain- 
ing  a  valuable  collection  of  pictures  constitutes  the 
prominent  attraction  of  Ponunersfelden ;  and  it  is  to 
this  I  wish  to  invite  your  attention. 

The  palace  once  built,  its  distinguished  possessor 
bent  his  endeavours  to  the  acquisition  of  a  gallery  of 
paintings  fitted  to  adorn  its  interior,  as  well  as  of  a 
jTood  collection  of  books.  Lothair  Franz  was  on  fami- 
liar  terms  with  the  eniinent  artists  of  his  times ;  and, 


POMMERSFELDEN.  207 

by  his  own  discernini^  jiidgment,  as  well  as  by  the 
able  assistance  of  his  "  hofmaler"  or  court  painter 
(in  fact,  he  had  two  in  his  pay,  Byss  and  Cossian)^  he 
speedily  got  hold  of  a  considerable  number  of  pre- 
cious works, — chiefly,  however,  of  the  Flemish  school, 
in  which  our  Prince-Bishop  especially  delighted.  Herr 
Heller,  of  Bamberg,  in  his  interesting  little  notice  of 
this  chateau,  published  quite  recently,  states  the 
number  to  have  been  480,  as  early  as  the  year  1719. 
The  heirs  and  successors  of  Lothair  pursuing  the 
design  of  enriching  the  gallery  with  choice  pictures, 
it  became,  towards  the  middle  of  the  eighteenth  cen- 
tury, amply  stored ;  and  critical  catalogues  and  notices 
upon  it  began  to  be  published  by  the  connoisseurs  of 
that  period.  In  1759,  the  invasion  of  Franconia  by 
the  Prussian  troops  engaged  in  the  Seven  Years' 
War,  occasioned  the  pictures  to  be  hurried  off  to  a 
place  of  safety;  and  again  in  1802,  when  the  French 
overran  this  country,  the  treasures  of  Pommersfelden 
were  a  second  time  drasffred  across  the  heart  of  Ger- 
many  to  another  and  distant  residence  of  the  Counts 
Schonborn,  in  Bohemia,  there  to  abide  the  course  of 
events.  When  they  were  finally  replaced  in  their 
Avonted  positions,  a  regular  keeper  was  installed  to 
watch  over  them,  named  Joseph  Dorn  ;  who  lived 
into  the  year  1841. 

Although,  as  has  been  said  above,  the  collection  is 
more  richly  furnished  with  Flemish  works  than  with 
the  productions  of  the  Italian  masters,  yet  are  there 
mnny  of  the  latter  to  be  found  here  which  may  fairly 
be  classed  as  superior  pictures.  Of  these,  the  leading 
specimen  is  a  painting  by  Leonardo  da  Yinci  (long 
attributed  to  Bafaelle,  however,  and  by  Byss,  among 


208  POMMERSFELDEN. 

the  rest),  of  the  Virgin  and  Child,  than  which  I  have 
seldom  seen  a  more  charming  production.  The 
Virgin,  whose  left  hand  and  arm  hang  over  a  pedestal, 
is  exquisitely  painted;  her  right  arm  encircles  the 
babe,  who  is  sitting  in  her  lap,  and  pointing  to  a  vase 
or  urn  in  the  background.  I  should  not  wonder  if 
this  picture  alone  were  found  to  be  worth  from  one 
to  two  thousand  guineas.  It  is  of  the  size  of  life, 
and  three-quarter  length.  It  has  undergone  some 
injury  by  being  carried  to  Munich,  to  serve  as  a 
model  for  the  students  in  painting  there:  the  journey 
has  damaged  the  impasto  in  places,  and  this  has  been 
repaired  somewhat  unskilfully, — a  sad  return  for  the 
generous  proprietor's  kindness  in  allowing  this  valu- 
able picture  to  go  to  Munich.  A  naked  Venus,  by 
Titian,  is  perhaps  next  in  point  of  merit  to  the 
Leonardo;  whilst  a  portrait  of  a  young  officer  in 
armour,  by  the  same  master,  near  it,  challenges  the 
warmest  admiration.  A  Carlo  Dolce  (Mater  Dolo- 
rosa, according  to  the  received  pattern  of  this 
painter)  is  of  very  high  quality,  perhaps  equal  to 
Sir  Thomas  Baring's.  A  Magdalen,  by  Guido,  iti  his 
brown  manner,  is  rich  in  coloui*,  but  voluptuous  in 
character;  an  Assumption,  by  Giovanni  Bellini,  is  inte- 
resting, though  not  in  the  artist's  best  style ;  a  large 
allegorical  piece  by  Paul  Veronese;  a  St.  Sebastian, 
by  Carlo  Dolce  (of  a  truly  celestial  expression); 
Tobias  and  the  Angel,  by  Murillo;  Isaac  blessing 
Jacob,  by  Annibal]  Carracci;  and  several  subjects  by 
Tintoretto,  Spagnoletto,  and  Domenichino,  are  all 
more  or  less  Avorthy  of  honourable  mention.  In 
passing  to  a  description  of  the  chefs  d'ijouvre  of  the 
other  schools  of  art,  I  am  apprehensive  of  falling  into 


POMMERSFELDEN.  209 

superlatives:  so  perfect,  so  matchless  are  many  of 
the  pictures,  that  you  get  into  a  fever  of  admiration 
as  each  gem  occupies  your  eager  attention  by  turns. 
Where  shall  I  begin? — with  the  Vandycks? — but  the 
Kembrandts — yes,  the  Rembrandts!  what  a  feast 
had  we  in  his  "  Saul  gazing  upon  the  Shade  of 
Samuel  evoked  by  the  Witch  of  Endor."  Tlie 
language  of  praise  is  pale  in  presence  of  such  a 
masterpiece — I  dare  not  attempt  to  use  it,  but  must 
content  myself  with  saying  that  the  picture  is  in  the 
finest  condition;  about  three  feet  high;  and  the  figures 
larger  than  common  in  Kembrandt's  compositions. 
But  the  glorious  colouring  and  effects  of  torch-light — 
ah  me !  There  are  several  Rembrandts  besides  this, 
two  of  which  are  of  high  merit, — viz.,  an  old  woman 
reading  at  a  large  open  book,  called  the  Prophetess 
Johanna ;  and  a  man  sitting  in  an  easy-chair :  there 
is  also  a  Dutch  baker  blowing  his  horn  at  his  shop- 
door,  an  excellent  work.  By  Eubens,  a  Christ  on 
the  Cross,  in  his  finest  manner,  about  two  feet  and  a 
lialfhigh;  a  magnificent  composition  called  Charity, 
with  four  lusty  naked  boys — a  large  canvas,  the 
flesh  incomparably  fine;  a  St.  Francis,  vigorously 
painted,  life  size;  a  lady  seated,  a  whole-length 
figure — capital;  an  Entombment;  David  playing 
upon  the  Harp.  But  I  must  here  pause.  More 
remains  to  be  told  of  the  rarities  I  beheld  in  this 
palatial  residence;  but  they  must  form  the  subject  of 
a  future  letter.  So  prepare  for  fresh  rhapsodies  on 
the  part  of  your  humble  servant  and  subscriber. 


CHARACTEE  OF  THE  REV.  SYDNEY  SMITH. 

March  10,  1845. 

The  comment  on  the  Reverend  Sydney  Smith's 
character  and  writings,  which  appeared  in  the  Spec- 
tator of  1st  March,  struck  me  as  being  at  once  accu- 
rate and  discriminating,  in  so  far  as  it  took  a  view  of 
l)oth,  such  as  a  thoughtful  observer  of  his  times  might 
well  arrive  at,  having  no  personal  feeling  towards  or 
even  private  acquaintance  with  the  eminent  divine 
lately  lost  to  the  world.  But  those  who  enjoyed  the 
privilege  of  private  intercourse  with  this  remarkable 
man  must  feel  that  quite  as  much  remains  to  be  said 
of  him  under  that  aspect ;  and  I  venture  to  speak  as 
one  of  them,  although  admitted  within  the  circle  of 
his  familiar  associates  only  during  the  latter  years 
of  his  life,  when,  of  course  his  beams  must  have  been 
shorn  of  a  part  of  their  former  splendour.  Still,  the 
setting  glories  of  Sydney  Smith  were  more  brilliant 
than  most  other  men's  meridian  rays. 

In  the  varied  flow  of  his  conversational  powers,  the 
point  of  his  playful  satire,  and  the  force  and  vivacity 
of  his  illustrations,  few,  if  any,  have  ever  approached 
him :  added  to  these,  there  was  a  natural  buoyancy 
of  temper,  and  genial  aptitude  for  mirth  and  for  the 
enjoyment  of  society,  Avhich  had  so  exhilarating  an 
effect  on  those  around  him  that  no  one  ever  felt  reluc- 
tant to  be  made  the  subject  of  his  pleasantry.  His 
attacks  were  indeed  like  summer  lightning — they 
never  harmed  the  object  illumined  by  their  flasli. 


CHARACTER  OF  THE  REV.  SYDNEY  SMITH.        211 

But  not  in  the  convivial  hour  alone  was  Sydney 
Smith  qualified  to  bear  a  leading  part.  In  tempe- 
rate and  philosophic  discussion — on  topics  embracing 
the  substantial  interests  of  the  human  race — on  ethical 
questions — he  was  luminous  in  his  remarks,  large  and 
liberal-minded,  and  even  patient  of  contradiction.  In 
fact,  he  had  read  much,  and  always  with  the  sincerest 
desire  to  arrive  at  truth ;  and  if  he  lacked  that  quality 
of  intellect  which  is  capable  of  imparting  original 
views  on  profound  subjects,  no  man  was  ever  more 
successful  in  possessing  himself  of  the  results  of  other 
men's  thoughts,  and  in  diffusing  them  in  a  form  suited 
to  the  apprehension  of  ordinary  readers.  A  distin- 
guished scholar  now  living,  writing  of  Sydney  Smith 
to  a  friend  in  1840,  observes — "  Ridicule  seems  to  me 
to  be  admirably  fitted  to  confound  fools,  and  to 
destroy  their  prejudices.  It  is  not  needed  in  order  to 
recommend  truth  to  wise  men ;  and  indeed,  from  its 
generally  dealing  in  exaggeration  and  slight  misre- 
presentation, is  likely  to  offend  them.  It  is  his 
mastery  of  ridicule  which  renders  Sydney  Smith  so 
powerful  as  a  diff user  of  ideas ;  for  in  order  to  diffuse 
widely,  it  is  necessary  to  be  able  to  address  fools. 
His  powers  as  a  diffuser^  as  compared  with  the  powers 
of  a  great  inventor^  who  was  latterly  altogether  want- 
ing in  the  diffusing  power,  are  well  shown  in  his 
article  on  Bentham's  Booh  of  Fallacies.  Indeed,  as  a 
diffuser  of  the  good  ideas  of  other  men,  I  do  not 
know  whether  he  ever  had  an  equal." 

When  the  imaginative  faculty  was  in  question, 
however,  Sydney  Smith  was  creative  and  original 
enough,  God  knows.  When  in  good  spirits,  the 
exuberance  of  his  fancy  showed  itself  in  the  most  fan- 


212        CHARACTER  OF  THE  REV.  SYDNEY  SMITH. 

tastic  images  and  most  ingenious  absurdities,  till  bis 
bearers  and  bimself  were  at  times  fatigued  with  tlie 
merriment  tbey  excited.  He  bad  tbe  art,  too,  of 
divesting  personalities  of  vulgarity;  and  not  unfre- 
quently  was  tbe  luckless  victim  of  bis  wit  seen  to 
enjoy  tbe  exercise  of  it  quite  as  mucb  as  others.  In 
fact,  many  persons  rather  felt  it  as  a  compliment 
when  Sydney  singled  them  out  for  sport.  And  he 
was  so  universal  in  bis  sympathies,  that  he  did  not 
require  a  select  or  distinguished  circle  in  order  to  be 
incited  to  display.  His  rich  resources  flowed  so  freely 
forth,  that  I  have  beard  some  of  his  happiest  inspira- 
tions uttered  to  persons  of  comparatively  bumble  pre- 
tensions either  to  intelligence  or  fashion.  Tbe  pre- 
sence of  men  and  women — so  tbey  were  but  of  the 
educated  class — always  unlocked  his  sympathies,  and 
be  expanded  without  difliculty  as  without  vanity.  Not 
that  he  was  insensible  to  the  value  of  choice  society — 
none  knew  better  how  to  prize  and  enjoy  it.  But 
be  bad  such  a  store  of  kindly  benevolence  in  his 
heart,  that  he  liked  to  contribute  to  the  happiness  of 
whomsoever  be  found  bimself  in  company  with. 
Nobody  too  obscure,  in  fact,  for  Sydney  to  put  into 
good  humour  with  themselves.  Nay,  I  have  seen 
him  brighten  the  countenance  of  bis  poor  parish- 
ioners, for  tbe  day,  by  a  captivating  phrase  or  two, 
when  be  met  them,  or  visited  their  cottage  in  quality 
of  "  doctor,"  as  he  was  wont  to  do  at  Combe  Florey.* 


*  On  one  occasion,  his  parish-clerk  being  laid  up  with  a  broken  shin, 
Sydney  called  round  to  know  if  kis  plaster  had  wrought  benefit.  "  I'm 
getting  round,  Sir;  but  I  doubt  I  sha'n't  be  fit  for  duty  by  Sunda}"- 
next."  "  Sorry  for  that,  David,  indeed ;  we  shall  miss  you  at  the  sing- 
ing."   Then  turning  to  me,  "You  can't  think  what  a  good  hand  David 


CHARACTER  OF  THE  REV.  SYDNEY  SMITH.        213 

It  has  been  objected,  that  his  temperament  un- 
fitted him  for  the  clerical  profession.  It  certainly  did 
not  prevent  his  active  discharge  of  those  duties  which 
belong  to  the  office  of  a  parish-priest;  and  I  have 
heard  from  good  authority,  that  during  his  long  resi- 
dence (of  sixteen  years,  I  believe)  on  his  living  in 
Yorkshire,  no  clergyman  ever  performed  those  duties 
with  better  effect.  /  know  how  he  performed  them 
at  Combe  Florey,  and  recollect  it  with  admiration 
and  respect.  Sucli  viHage  sermons  are  rare;  such 
pastoral  protection  and  care  not  frequent;  whilst  his 
medical  knowledge  (which  was  purposely  acquired  at 
Edinburgh  in  this  view)  was  always  available  to  his 
poor  neiglibours'  comfort  and  relief.  But  he  indulged 
in  levity,  it  is  asserted,  on  religious  topics.  To  this 
I  reply,  that,  whatever  may  have  passed  in  the  fami- 
liar confidence  of  liis  intimate  society,  nothing  that 
the  public  havT  a  right  to  deal  with  is  obnoxious  to 
this  cavil.  Professionally  speaking,  Sydney  Smith 
was  without  blemish;  and  this  is  saying  much.  Let 
such  dignitaries  as  are  without  spot  throw  the  first 
stone.  He  did  not,  moreover,  choose  his  profession; 
and  the  most  that  can  be  said,  therefore,  is,  that  being 
made  a  priest  by  his  father's  will  and  desire,  he  did 
not  compress  and  subjugate  the  original  man  into  the 
ideal  of  a  churchman.  Yet  it  has  been  suggested,  on 
the  opposite  view  of  his  character,  that  he  used  his 
powerful  pen  in  behalf  of  his  corporation  interests ! 
(Letters  to  Archdeacon  Singleton,  to  wit.)  The 
truth  is,  that  Sydney  conceived  it  to  be  his  profes- 

is  at  a  psalm — you  slioulJ  hear  him  lead  oIT  the  OH  Kitndi'edth."  At 
which  the  old  clerk's  eyes  fairly  glistened  as  he  stammered  oat,  "  Ah  ! 
your  hoaour's  oaly  sayiag  that  to  cheer  mc  up  a  bit." 


214        CIIARACTEU  OF  THE  REV.  SYDNEY  SMITH. 

sional  duty  to  espouse  the  corporation  interests ;  and 
accordingly  he  sustained  tliem  by  his  one-sided  pro- 
fessional remonstrance  against  Lord  John  Russell's 
interference  with  its  rights.  But  it  is  difficult  to 
please  all  objectors,  and  even  Sydney  Smith  could 
not  hit  the  mark, — too  catholic  for  some,  too  clerical- 
minded  for  others;  the  only  sure  course  being  a  blind 
and  steady  party-zeal:  and  this  was  just  what  my 
revered  friend  could  not  practise.  He  aided  the 
Whigs  prodigiously  when  they  figured  as  the  apostles 
of  the  principles  he  had  at  heart;  for  he  wrote  with 
the  force  of  conviction.  At  a  later  season,  they  were 
in  the  ascendant,  and  he  wielded  his  pen  in  the  cleri- 
cal service  as  the  paramount  obligation  of  his  later 
days.  That  he  should  have  been  something  more — 
or  something  less,  as  you  will — than  a  member  of  the 
sacerdotal  corporation,  seems  to  me  inseparable  from 
the  enlarged  and  beneficent  character  of  Sydney 
Smith's  mind:  and  I  can  only  add,  would  that  the 
Church  were  never  worse  served  than  by  my  lamented 
friend ! 


FRENCH  POLITICS. 

January,  1850. 

La  Presse  is  distinguished  among  Paris  journals  lor 
an  undaunted  self-reliance,  and  together  with  the 
vices  of  audacity  it  possesses  not  a  few  of  the  good 
qualities  of  courage.  It  can,  when  so  pleased,  be 
candid;  and  it  has  thus  given  circulation  to  a 
remarkable  and  interesting  series  of  letters,  by  an 
American  gentleman,  on  the  Political  Constitutions 
of  England,  the  United  States,  and  France  under  the 
actual  Republic. 

Compared  with  the  wearisome  and  pompous  decla- 
mation of  the  Democratic  organs,  or  with  the  mystical 
and  high-flown  homilies  of  Legitimacy,  these  letters 
claimed  a  marked  attention ;  coming  as  they  do  from 
a  citizen  of  the  greatest  Republic  ever  organized  since 
the  world  began ;  from  one  schooled  in  its  discipline, 
familiar  with  its  machinery,  and  extensively  con- 
versant with  its  doctrines ;  accustomed  also  to  com- 
pare them  both  in  their  theory  and  in  their  practice 
with  the  old  institutions  of  Europe.  Mr.  Henry 
Wikoff  has  lived  much  v/ith  the  French;  he  admires 
their  nation,  and  loves  to  dwell  among  them :  hence 
his  earnest  longings  to  be  useful,  according  to  his 
ability,  in  assisting  them  to  arrive  at  that  most  im- 
portant blessing,  a  solid  and  well-constructed  form  of 
government.  Taking  as  the  text  of  his  first  letter 
"  the  Constitution  of  the  United  States,"  he  expounds 
the  action  of  its  respective  forces   in  securing  the 


216  FRENCH   POLITICS. 

nearest  approach  to  liberty  and  equality  ever  beheld 
in  the  social  state,  coincidently  with  that  security  to 
life  and  property  without  which  any  government  were 
a  worthless  pageant.  AVe  hardly  know  in  what  shape 
instruction  on  political  philosophy  could  be  rendered 
more  available  to  the  people  than  in  the  one  Mr. 
Wikoff  has  chosen.  His  exposition  of  the  American 
apparatus  of  government  is  delivered  in  an  unpre- 
tending simple  style,  such  as  might  characterize  the 
descriptions  of  machines  or  instruments  in  the  pages 
of  a  scientific  treatise.  One  is  made  to  see  so  clearly 
the  relation  between  the  several  parts,  that  ideas  of 
mechanical  laws  unconsciously  rise  to  the  mind,  and 
we  half  expect  to  see  an  illustrative  cut,  with  "  A  the 
cylinder,  C  the  fly-wheel,  F  the  revolving  pinion,  H 
the  valve-index,"  and  so  forth.  Once  familiar  with 
the  structure  of  a  political  constitution  sanctioned  by 
experiment,  the  French  people  will  be  furnished  with 
a  model  according  to  which  their  own  may  be  made 
to  fit  its  i)urpose;  although,  starting  from  a  condition 
less  favourable  to  constructive  oroanization  than  the 
colonial  architects,  some  compromises  must  be  made 
with  ancient  principles.  It  depends  upon  the  French 
people,  as  a  nation,  how  far  these  shall  extend ;  and 
tliey  may  thank  the  author  of  the  letters  to  La  Presse 
for  lending  them  a  helping  hand  towards  a  better 
comprehension  of  their  interests  in  respect  to  the 
nature  of  such  compromises. 

The  striking  feature,  we  repeat,  of  these  letters,  is 
their  transparent  clearness;  a  feature  in  wliich  the 
writers  of  the  day  in  France,  with  all  their  talent, 
certainly  do  not  shine.  The  view  Mr.  AVikofFhas  taken 
of  the  English  constitutional  coui'se  may  be  pronounced 


FRENCH   POLITICS.  217 

sagacious  on  the  whole;  and  it  is  instructive,  as 
tracing  the  conflict  between  the  mighty  elements  of 
English  life,  Aristocracy  and  Democracy,  througli  a 
long  historical  period,  till  the  curious  and  indescri- 
bable thing  which  the  English  government  has  come 
to  be,  got  into  operation,  to  the  despair  of  foreign 
statesmen  and  the  misleading  of  foreign  imitators. 
The  New  Yorker,  however,  is  not  quite  so  much  at 
home  in  his  subject  when  writing  upon  England;  but 
is  hardly  open  to  censure  for  incompleteness,  seeing 
that  he  has  treated  a  prodigious  subject  within  the 
space  of  a  few  columns,  and  that  without  violating 
any  important  historical  sequence,  although  he  has 
necessarily  overlooked  a  vast  number  of  intermediate 
and  connecting  links. 

But  the  really  essential  lesson  to  be  inculcated  on 
tlie  French  nation  is,  not  so  much  how  their  new 
framcAvork  of  civil  government  should  be  put  together, 
as  how  it  should  be  worked  and  applied  to  its  purpose 
when  set  up.  For  here  lies  the  formidable  difficulty 
with  that  people,  so  insidiously  cheated  of  their  hopes 
by  each  successive  dynasty,  and  so  unfairly  re- 
proached by  lookers-on  for  manifesting  discontent 
under  their  disappointments. 

It  is  to  no  purpose  that  the  French  people  make 
revolutions,  since  the  government  which  succeeds 
contrives  to  get  back  into  the  vicious  track  of  its  ex- 
pelled predecessor;  or,  if  not  into  the  same,  into  a 
course  no  less  fatal  to  national  credit  and  tranquillity. 
The  moral  to  be  deduced  from  this  is  twofold.  Some 
will  choose  to  affirm  that  tliis  fact  proves  how  much 
wiser  the  people  would  show  themselves  if  they  would 
let  revolutions  alone,  and  submit  to  the  unavoidable 


218  FRENCH    rOLITICS. 

evils  of  bad  governors.  Others,  more  keenly  alive  to 
the  principles  of  equity  and  the  reciprocal  duties  of 
governors  and  governed,  will  adopt  the  maxim  that 
care  must  be  taken  in  reforming  a  government  to  put 
at  the  head  of  it  jiersons  interested  in  its  going  on 
successfully  and  healthily.  But  this  is  just  what 
cannot  be  hoped  for  in  the  case  of  the  present 
Eepublic  of  France. 

In  that  beautiful  country,  rich  in  all  the  elements 
which  can  constitute  earthly  happiness  and  solid 
prosperity,  there  unhappily  wants  a  steadfast  desire 
for  the  growth  and  permanent  establishment  of  the 
actual  government.  The  whole  of  the  upper  class  of 
Frenchmen,  from  the  President  down  to  the  Lecturer 
on  Botany  at  the  Academy  of  Dijon,  are  in  a  tacit 
league  to  the  end  that  the  Republic  shall  not  stand. 
In  the  face  of  such  a  coalition,  what  are  the  working 
classes  to  do?  Is  it  conceivable,  we  would  ask,  that, 
under  the  original  American  constitution  even,  a 
republic  could  have  got  on  its  legs,  if  Washington,  if 
Jefferson,  Adams,  and  Franklin,  and  that  class  of 
political  men,  had  looked  unkindly  upon  its  birth? 
What  made  the  infant  republic  sj^ring  to  vigorous 
life?  what  made  the  constitution  gradually  evolve 
itself  into  effective  operation  after  the  Convention 
of  1787-8-9? 

It  was  the  cordial  patriotism  of  the  American 
statesmen,  principal  no  less  than  secondary,  which 
mainly  brought  about  the  success  of  that  memorable 
experiment :  it  is  the  absence  of  this  element  in  France 
— patriotic  singleness  of  purpose,  and  a  disposition  to 
accept  the  present  fabric  as  her  permanent  destiny — 
which,  it  is  to  be  feared,  will  hinder  it  from  taking 


FRENCH   POLITICS.  219 

root  in  her  soil,  or  in  the  attachment  of  her  sons. 
Can  anj^thing  be  more  disheartening  than  to  see  a 
noble  man-of-war  betrayed  by  her  officers?  Yet 
such  will  be  the  spectacle  offered  by  the  Republic  of 
France,  unless  some  means  can  be  found  to  frustrate 
the  combination  formed  against  it  by  every  cluster  of 
parties  engaged  in  public  life. 

It  is  not  difficult  to  specify  in  what  consists  the 
disposition  to  abolish  this  government.  Every  at- 
tentive observer  can  see  that  it  is  not  rich  enough  to 
corrupt  the  hungry  harpies  who  supported  the  late 
system.  Their  support  is  withdrawn,  whilst  that  of 
no  other  party  can  be  relied  on ;  simply  because  they 
desire  and  hope  to  establish  each  their  own  idol,  on 
the  ruins  of  the  Republic.  The  President,  weak  in 
his  personal  following,  is  thus  obliged  to  play  the 
game  of  attracting  the  favour  of  the  working  classes 
and  of  the  arm}^  And  a  game  more  destructive,  in 
respect  to  permanent  popularity  with  the  nation  at 
large,  there  cannot  be.  With  Mr.  Wikoff's  aid  wc 
may  recur  to  the  leading  points  which  bear  upon  the 
difficulties  of  the  French  nation  in  getting  even  a 
good  constitution  into  work.  Meanwhile,  let  us 
refrain  from  those  too  common  accusations  against 
the  people,  as  such,  for  allowing  no  government  to 
stand,  Avhilst  as  yet  they  have  destroyed  none  which 
has  deserved  to  endure. 

Should  the  present  one  perish,  it  would  certainly 
owe  its  destruction,  not  to  the  "  Republicans  of  the 
streets,"  but  to  the  conspirators  of  the  salons ;  to  the 
verv  class  from  whom  we  have  heard  such  unmea- 
sured  revilino'S  aaainst  the  "  restless  discontents"  of 
the  lower  orders.     The  Republic,  it  is  manifest,  suits 


220  FEENCII    rOLITICS. 

neither  the  aristocracy  nor  the  office-seekers;  the 
Monarchy  did  not  satisfy  the  people.  Shall  we 
never  get  beyond  a  choice  between  one.  class  interest 
and  another? 

The  third  letter  addressed  by  Mr.  WikofF,  the  Ameri- 
can, to  the  Paris  journal  La  Fresse,  deals  in  a  sort  of 
historical  resume  of  French  internal  changes,  from  an 
early  period ;  the  drift  of  which  would  seem  to  be  the 
illustration  of  Mr.  WikofF's  favourite  dogma,  that 
without  a  due  proportion  of  the  three  elementary 
principles — monarchical,  aristocratical,  and  democra- 
tical — no  nation  can  expect  to  flourish,  or  even  to 
avoid  political  tempests.  We  suspect  that  a  good 
many  other  reasons,  besides  the  defective  operation 
of  "  the  balance,"  may  be  assigned  for  the  frequent 
intestine  commotions  of  our  neighbours;  and  what  is 
more,  we  doubt  whether  "  the  balance"  has  been  the 
secret  of  our  own  tranquil  progress  since  the  expul- 
sion of  the  last  Stuart.  It  is  true  that  a  belief  in  the 
theory  of  mutual  checks  in  the  English  constitution 
has  been  Avidely  circulated,  and  treated  as  a  reality 
by  eminent  publicists  and  professors  of  jurisprudence. 
De  Lolme,  for  instance,  built  a  name  upon  an  elabo- 
rate exposition  of  its  admirable  structure,  which  for 
years  served  for  a  text-book  on  Government.  But 
whoever  studies  the  operation  of  English  institutions 
attentively,  seldom  fails  to  discover  that  there  are,  in 
fact,  only  two  forces  at  work, — the  monarch  and  the 
aristocracy,  covertly  united,  on  one  side ;  the  popular 
will  on  the  other.  Even  the  memorable  project  of 
the  Reform  Bill  was  but  a  sacrifice  on  the  part  of  one 
section  of  aristocracy  to  gain  the  advantage  over  a 
rival  section,  in  which  the  reigning  monarch  lent  them 


FRENCH   POLITICS.  221 

his  aid.  The  pure  element  of  aristocratical  power, 
the  House  of  Lords,  was  then  seen  to  exert  its  separate 
will  and  interest.  But  the  "  balance"  was,  like  the 
scales  of  Brennus,  falsified  by  an  unscrupulous  use  of 
the  royal  prerogative.  The  king,  having  the  people 
at  his  back,  for  once  sliowed  the  value  of  the  pre- 
tended "  balance,"  when  compared  Avith  the  reality  of 
a  popular  determination :  an  instructive  lesson,  not 
often  permitted  to  the  lookers-on,  so  plausible  is  the 
fiction,  and  so  useful  to  the  governing  powers. 

After  all,  we  have  no  objection  to  the  theory,  as 
such ;  and  if  Mr.  Wikoff  succeed  in  engrafting  it  upon 
the  French  mind,  it  is  quite  conceivable  that  he  may 
be  doing  them  a  service.  For  as  the  Democratic 
party  in  the  French  Chamber  seeks  to  render  itself 
predominant  by  means  unbecoming  a  deliberative 
assembly,  it  would  seem  but  fitting  that  those  members 
who  belong  to  a  class  habituated  to  the  restraints  of 
genteel  life  should  be  allowed  to  exercise  the  function 
of  legislators  in  peace  and  with  decorous  forms.  And 
to  this  end,  as  Mr.  WikofF  urges,  two  Chambers  are 
indispensable, — a  bear-garden  for  the  "Montague;" 
and  a  Senate  (or  "  House  of  Lords")  for  educated 
men  of  business,  where  public  discussion  should  be 
carried  on  with  some  chance  of  profit  to  the  country, 
by  those  who  under  an  unitary  representative  system 
would  be  condemned  to  inaction. 

But  in  order  that  a  nation  should  consolidate  its 
public  institutions,  it  must  positively  resist  wanton 
changes.  "  Le  mieux  est  I'ennemi  du  bien,"  it  has 
been  happily  said;  and  the  existing  French  constitu- 
tion, with  all  its  faults,  offers  so  much  of  what  is 
essential  to  a  good  one,  that,  having   got  it   into 


222  FRENCH   POLITICS. 

operation,  the  nation  ought  to  endeavour  to  keep  it 
going  at  least  for  some  years,  by  force  of  good  citi- 
zenship, and  a  firm  will  to  resist  the  provocations  of 
dissatisfied  and  restless  partisans  of  a  monarchy :  and 
thus,  since  the  existing  law  forbids  the  re-election  of 
the  President,  so  ought  it  to  stand,  although  it  may 
be  one  of  questionable  wisdom. 

It  strikes  us  as  a  most  discouraging  fact,  that  an 
able  and  influential  writer  like  M.  C.  Dunoyer  should 
at  this  time  of  day,  constitute  himself  all  at  once  the 
apostle  of  Legitimacy.  In  a  pamphlet  recently  put 
forth,  he  distinctly  calls  upon  his  countrymen  to 
throw  aside  all  this  wicker-work  of  a  government, 
and  to  recall  Henri  Cinq,  with  the  whole  tissue  of 
exploded  sentiments  and  traditions,  as  being  the  only 
chance  for  the  French  nation  to  regain  her  character 
among  the  powers  of  Europe.  It  reminds  one  of  what 
takes  place  after  the  curtain  has  fallen  at  the  theatre 
npon  the  final  scene  of  a  tragic  drama :  every  leading 
personage  being  killed  or  exiled,  and  the  "moral" 
left  to  operate  on  the  spectators,  forth  steps  the 
manager,  and  announces  that  the  play  will  be  acted 
again  the  next  night.  So  with  M.  Dunoyer:  the 
terrible  efibrts  by  which  the  French  have  sought  to 
escape  from  the  abuses  of  kingly  government  are 
treated  like  the  acts  of  players ;  whilst  the  King  is 
behind  the  scenes,  ready  to  step  on  to  the  stage  once 
more,  wholly  regardless  of  the  sanguinary  lessons 
which  have  been  inculcated  on  his  predecessors. 
But  the  French  people  cannot  be  desirous  of  re- 
establishing a  Bourbon  dynasty.  We  agree  with 
Mr.  Wikofi",  that  the}^  are  not  justly  chargeable  with 
fickleness  or  with  a  blind  love  of  revolutions,     They 


FRENCH    POLITICS.  223 

have  proved  that  they  could  resent  the  faults  of  bad 
governments,  and  also  that,  sixty  years  ago,  they 
could  be  led  to  commit  furious  excesses  in  their 
vengeance:  but  what  centuries  of  oppression  had 
they  not  endured?  Now,  however,  the  nation,  as 
such,  is  disposed  to  check  all  attempts  at  violence, 
and  might  be  readily  brought  to  co-operate  in  the 
organization  of  provincial  and  local  systems  of 
government,  were  its  rulers  but  honest  enough  to 
afford  it  the  means.  We  fear,  however,  that  the 
passion  for  centralization,  so  rife  among  political 
leaders,  will  continue  to  paralyze  a  tendency  which, 
if  encouraged,  might  beyond  all  else  promote  the 
internal  tranquillity  of  France,  as  well  as  afford  a 
counterpoise  to  the  mischievous  ascendancy  of  its 
metropolis. 


THE  CITIZEN  PEER. 

February,  1850. 

One  of  our  most  distinguished  fellow  citizens  is,  we 
understand,  to  be  speedily  advanced  to  the  honours 
and  dignity  of  the  Peerage,  by  the  title  of  Baron 
Overstone.  The  road  by  which  Mr.  Samuel  Jones 
Loyd  will  have  arrived  at  this  dignity  is  one  which  is 
seldom  travelled, — namely,  that  of  individual  merit. 
It  is  indeed  probable  that  the  vast  wealth  of  which  he 
is  reputed  to  be  the  possessor,  counts  for  much  in  the 
calculations  of  those  by  whom  he  has  been  invited  to 
assume  the  coronet:  but  we  believe  that  the  personal 
qualities  of  the  eminent  ex-banker,  his  accurate 
knowledge  of  some  of  the  most  difficult  subjects  which 
the  Legislature  is  called  upon  to  consider,  coupled 
with  a  rare  talent  for  lucid  and  condensed  exposition 
of  his  views,  have  supplied  still  more  weighty  motives 
for  placing  him  in  the  House  of  Lords.  The  acquisi- 
tion, by  the  party  in  possession  of  office,  of  a  recruit 
of  so  valuable  a  quality,  is  matter  of  congratulation 
to  all  their  friends,  whilst  the  country  may  well  regard 
with  satisfaction  the  presence  in  Parliament  of  a  man 
of  large  possessions,  combining  talent  of  no  common 
order  with  a  sincere  love  of  progress,  and  a  sound 
appreciation  of  the  public  interests. 

For  many  years  past,  the  friends  of  Mr.  Loyd  have 
regretted  that  the  sphere  of  his  influence  should  be  so 
limited,  and  that  the  confidence  felt  in  his  sagacious 
counsels  should  be  shared  by  those  alone  to  whom 


THE   CITIZEN   PEER.  225 

his  society  was  accessible.  But  to  the  House  of 
Commons  he  was  little  suited.  He  regarded  tlint 
assembly  as  one  in  which  a  man's  capacity  to  be  of 
service  to  the  public  was  more  than  counterbalanced 
by  the  extreme  annoyance  to  which  the  licence  per- 
mitted there  to  personal  attacks  subjects  him;  espe- 
cially after  the  period  of  youth  is  past,  and  the  habit 
of  self-respect  has  become  comparatively  sensitive. 

In  the  Upper  House,  to  do  it  justice,  more  atten- 
tion is  given  to  expository  speeches ;  a  greater  decorum 
prevails ;  and,  what  is  of  still  more  value  to  an  advo- 
cate of  farsighted  principles  in  any  walk  of  legislation, 
the  speaker  is  unfettered  by  the  control  of  constituents. 
And  here,  in  fact,  lies  the  important  distinction  be- 
tween the  debates  in  the  respective  Chambers.  The 
standard  by  which  a  member  of  the  House  of 
Commons  adjusts  his  discourse  is  necessarily  kept 
down  to  the  quality  which  suits  his  supporters  in  the 
borough  or  county  he  represents.  That  of  a  peer 
needs  to  be  adjusted  by  no  considerations  except  such 
as  belong  to  his  theme,  unless  perhaps  we  admit 
party  motives  as  likely  to  influence  his  arguments. 
From  party  motives,  however,  tlie  new  peer  will  pro- 
bably derive  but  slender  inspiration ;  although  doubt- 
less his  inclinations  will  lead  him  to  put  out  his 
strength,  when  occasion  and  conscience  concur,  in 
favour  of  the  Whig  Government. 

The  reasons  in  support  of  a  double  chamber  of 
legislation  would  seem  to  be  sustained  by  the  expe- 
rience of  recent  Continental  events.  If,  in  truth,  we 
hold  by  the  old  song,  "  Crabbed  age  and  youth  cannot 
live  together,"  and  farther,  if  mature  age  and  property 
are  to  be  allowed  their  Itiir  proportion  of  influence  in 

Q 


220  THE    CITIZEN    PEER. 

the  national  councils,  then  must  an  Upper  House  be 
maintained  for  its  exercise.  For  since  the  changes  in 
tlie  Lower  House,  brought  about  by  the  infusion  of 
a  class  somewhat  addicted  to  infringe  upon  polite 
rules  and  customs,  it  cannot  be  disguised  that  the 
well-bred  and  more  instructed  section  of  that  body 
feel  themselves  unequally  yoked;  whilst  their  taste  is 
oifended,  and  their  health  impaired,  by  a  profitless 
attendance  in  a  heterogeneous  assembly,  of  which  the 
greater  number  are  indifferent  to  tlie  real  merits  of 
the  questions  debated  before  them. 

Viewed  under  this  aspect,  therefore,  the  present 
House  of  Commons  would  seem  to  retain  its  attrac- 
tion for  gentlemen  of  large  stake  in  the  country, 
chiefly  as  offering  the  means  of  maintaining  their 
political  influence,  and  as  a  step  towards  the  Upper 
House.  And  it  is  creditable  to  the  Government 
that  it  waived  this  customary  probation  in  the  case 
of  Mr.  Jones  Loyd.  To  have  bestowed  the  character 
of  a  legislator  for  life  upon  an  independent  and  un- 
political commoner,  of  the  commercial  class,  falls  in 
with  the  temper  of  the  times,  and  is  likely  to  give 
general  satisfaction  out  of  doors. 


A  GLANCE  AT  MODERN  EUROPE. 

K'ovember,  1850. 

The  events  of  tlie  day,  notified  as  they  are  by  the 
various  organs  wliich  the  ingenuity  of  man  now 
devotes  to  the  business  of  supplying  "  news"  all  over 
the  world,  are  enough  to  occupy  most  persons'  minds 
during  the  hours  which  business  or  the  cares  of  life 
leave  us  for  the  indulgence  of  reading.  So  rapid, 
indeed,  is  the  sequence  of  incidents  which  pass  before 
the  eyes  of  Europe,  that  few  people  can  discern  in  the 
facts  such  a  connexion  as  may  alFord  a  clue  to  the 
really  pervading  influences  at  work  on  the  old  frame 
of  society.  That  there  is  such  a  connexion  ma}^ 
nevertheless  be  affirmed;  and  one  which  it  is  amply 
worth  while  to  watch  and  trace,  were  it  only  for  the 
sake  of  curiosity,  but  which  it  more  behoves  us  to 
detect  and  interpret  in  the  hope  of  turning  our 
knowledge  to  wholesome  profit  for  the  coming  time. 

The  lower  classes  of  the  people  of  Europe  may  in 
these  daj^s  be  likened  to  a  child  who  has  become 
possessed  of  a  watch.  He  sees  the  dial,  and  the  hands 
at  work;  it  performs  certain  processes  with  given 
results;  his  curiosity  impels  him  to  break  open  his 
machine  and  examine  the  structure  and  contrivances; 
whereby  he  destroys  it,  and  the  watch  ceases  to  go. 
The  old  governments  of  Continental  Europe  have 
been  in  like  fashion  exposed  to  view ;  broken  into  by 
popular  curiosity,  prompted  by  popular  displeasure ; 
and  the  actual   result  is,  that  they,  like  the  watcli, 

Q  2 


228       A  GLANCE  AT  MODERN  EUROrE. 

have  one  and  all  ceased  to  perforin,  or  at  least  have 
come  into  so  dismal  a  state  of  confusion  that  every- 
■\vhere  is  found  consternation,   disunion,  vacillation, 
and  alarm.     One  power  alone  may  be  said  to  have 
got  "on  her  legs"  once  more,  which  is  Austria;  and 
that  she  is  insolvent  is  admitted  even  by  her  stanch 
supporter  the   Times  newspaper.      But    Austria,  at 
least,  "  knows  what  she  would  be  at,"  which  is  more 
than  can  be  predicated  of  any  other  European  cabinet. 
She  wants  to  bring  matters  back  to  a  position  nearly 
resembling  that  in  which  governments  stood  prior  to 
the  revolution  of  1848.     With  Russia  at  her  elbow, 
Austria  is  therefore  labouring  in  her  vocation,  and 
has  recently  shown  her  sincerity  by  aiding  one  of  the 
lesser  German  states  to  resist  manifestations  of  dis- 
affection among  its  subjects.     On  the  other  side,  the 
King  of  Prussia,  with   characteristic  weakness  and 
incapacity  of  foreseeing  political   results,    has    been 
worse  than  a  nullity  in  regard  to  the  advancement  of 
Liberal  doctrines  in   Germany.       By  his    trimming 
and  dissimulating  conduct,  he  has  forfeited  all  claim 
to  confidence  on  the  part  of  the  friends  of  progress, 
whilst  he  has  become  odious  in  the  eyes  of  his  more 
consistent    and  clearsighted   fellow  monarclis.      His 
pretended  demonstrations  in  behalf  of  i\\Q  i^eople  of 
Hesse  have   been  proved  insincere ;  and  the  King  of 
Prussia    is    now,    although   wielding    an    immense 
military  force,  completely  at  sea  as  to  how  to  play  out 
his  own  foolish  game.     I  need  not  particularize  the 
sources  of  this  embarrassment,  which  must  be  patent 
to  the  eyes  of  such  as  have  observed  passing  events 
with  any  attention  of  late.     But  the  combination  of 
Austria  and   Russia  against  the  growth  of  popular 


A  GLANCE  AT  MODERN  EUROPE.       229 

institutions  is  too  formidable  to  leave  room  to  doubt 
that,  in  countries  subject  to  their  influence,  very  little 
progress  can  be  made  for  the  present :  coupled  with 
this,  the  resistance  on  the  part  of  the  higher  classes 
to  popular  sentiments,  in  countries  not  comprised 
under  this  leaden  despotism,  may  be  considered  as 
forming  nearly  as  potent  an  obstacle  to  tbe  growth  of 
freedom  as  the  resuscitated  remnant  of  the  Holy 
Alliance  itself. 

If  I  am  not  misinformed,  the  bulk  of  the  richer 
inhabitants  and  noble  families  in  the  leading  states 
of  Germany  (certainly  in  Prussia,  Hanover,  Saxony, 
and  Bavaria)  entertain  a  decided  aversion  to  admit- 
ting the  element  of  "  representation"  into  the  machi- 
nery of  state  government.  Now,  therefore,  when 
Ave  hear  of  certain  kings  being  disposed  to  grant  con- 
cessions to  popular  demands,  it  should  always  be 
borne  in  mind,  that  in  doing  so  they  alienate  the  main 
body  of  their  adherents  among  the  upper  ranks  in  the 
country,  and  find,  in  these,  unwilling  ministers  of  any 
line  of  policy  tainted  with  the  sin  of  a  democratic 
tendency.  When  this  general  fact  is  remembered, 
together  with  another,  namely,  that  the  mass  of  the 
people  in  Germany  is  both  untrained  to  political 
action  and  ill-provided  with  individual  organs  or 
leaders,  it  must  appear  hopeless  to  expect  German 
social  amelioration  to  proceed,  save  at  a  terribly  slov/ 
rate.  Still,  I  believe  it  does  proceed,  and  that  in  spite 
of  Austrian  influence;  and  now  the  question  suggests 
itself,  why  is  Austria  suffered  to  weigh  like  an 
incubus  upon  civilization  and  human  development? 
Has  slie  a  friend  among  the  AVestern  family  of 
Europe?     No,  I  answer;  not  one  at  heart.     But  her 


230       A  GLANCE  AT  MODERN  EUROrE. 

2)ositioii  ill  tlie  mctp^  involved  as  it  is  with  everlasting 
traditions  of  bygone  transactions,  treaties,  "  under- 
standings," protocols,  &c.,  mixed  up  with  indefinable 
apprehensions  of  "losing  the  key  to  the  East"  if 
Austria  ceased  to  bar  the  road  to  Constantinople, — 
all  these  and  many  more  mysterious  associations  have 
so  hedged  the  old  empire  round  about,  in  the  minds 
of  red-tapists  of  the  highest  order,  that  her  genuine 
character,  or  the  mischief  her  rule  generates  to  the 
millions  subject  to  it,  never  counts  for  anything  in 
discussions  bearing  on  Continental  polity,  among  her 
contemporaries. 

This  ancient,  time-honoured  nuisance,  thus  con- 
tinues to  bear  sway;  thanks  to  the  superstitions 
embodied  in  her  existence,  and  to  the  instinct  of 
sympathy  which  enlists  every  lover  of  absolute 
government  in  her  preservation.  Nay,  her  very 
resurrection,  after  the  expulsion  of  her  presiding 
genius  Prince  Metternich,  in  1848,  was  the  fruit  of  too 
respectful  an  attachment  to  ancient  rights  and  forms 
on  the  part  of  popular  chiefs,  who  were  thereby  with- 
held from  pushing  the  advantages  they  had  gained. 

Among  the  motives,  however  (for  they  are  multi- 
form), which  concur  in  maintaining  the  power  of 
Austria,  is  the  desire  to  keep  on  foot  an  antagonist 
force  as  against  France  in  Europe.  Whatever  one 
may  wish  as  regards  the  maintenance  of  good  and 
amicable  relations  with  that  near  and  powerful  neigh- 
bour of  ours,  nothing  is  more  clear  than  that  we 
ought  "  never  to  trust  her  out  of  our  sight."  The 
extreme  sensitiveness  of  the  French  people  on  the  side 
of  national  importance,  not  to  say  vanity,  enables 
their  governors  to  turn  to  account  their  foible,  on 


A  GLANCE  AT  MODERN  EUROPE.       231 

occasion,  often  at  perilous  cost:  with  such  a  weak 
side,  it  is  natural  to  apprehend  that  our  neighbours 
would  clap  up  an  alliance  with  any  power  who  should 
offer  them  the  tempting  bait  of  an  "  arrondissement 
de  frontiere,"  or  who  would  do  homage  to  their 
"  greatness"  in  any  other,  even  less  substantial  way. 
The  fact  is,  that  the  French  nation  is  in  too  unsettled 
a  state  to  be  counted  on  for  any  purpose  beneficial  to 
the  interests  of  mankind.  They  will  be  persuaded  to 
do  anything — march  anywhere — repudiate  no  matter 
what  principles  of  political  morality — if  they  but  hear 
the  old  watchwords  "  French  influence,"  "  legitimate 
ascendancy,"  "glory  of  the  French  arms,"  and  so 
forth.  For  who  can  ever  forget,  much  less  forgive, 
the  monstrous  application  made  of  newly-established 
republican  powers,  on  these  pretexts,  to  the  extinc- 
tion of  nascent  independence  and  republican  govern- 
ment in  Rome? 

That  unpardonable  act  of  the  French  rulers  was, 
indeed,  I  much  fear  me,  far  from  offensive  to  the 
nation  itself:  at  least,  1  know  that  some  of  its  most 
estimable  citizens,  including,  for  instance,  M.  Leon 
Faucher  and  M.  Alexis  de  Tocqueville,  viewed  the 
employment  of  French  bayonets  to  force  the  Pope 
upon  an  unwilling  people  as  a  suitable,  nay,  a  praise- 
worthy act,  even  of  a  government  owing  its  existence 
to  the  popular  breath. 

But  to  return  to  the  general  aspect  of  the 
European  world  as  it  now  stands.  From  France 
small  anticipations  are  to  be  cherished  of  co-operation 
in  the  Avork  of  progress.  Whatever  disposition  may 
animate  the  masses  of  that  nation,  her  present  ruling 
classes  have  too  great  a  fear  of  the  encroaclunents  of 


232       A  GLANCE  AT  MODERN  EUROPE. 

the  popular  element  to  encourage  new  efforts  at  re- 
forming social  abuses.  They  would  rather,  in  fact, 
accept  the  friendly  support  of  some  old  despotism 
than  that  of  a  republic  of  any  kind.  It  is  tolerably 
evident,  then,  that  from  no  existing  government 
can  the  partisans  of  political  reformation  look  for 
support,  or  even  countenance.  From  England  it  is 
not  likely  to  attend  them — and  I  say  this  without 
meaning  to  cast  blame  on  this  nation  for  withholding 
it;  the  peculiar  position  in  which  she  is  placed  in 
reference  to  France  being  of  itself  a  serious  ground  for 
observing  a  discreet  neutrality  in  the  affairs  of  other 
countries.  France  and  Ens-land  misfht,  indeed,  new- 
model  the  greater  portion  of  these,  if  they  could 
cordially  agree  upon  fundamental  principles.  But 
how  can  this  be  hoped  for,  after  the  hateful  crusade 
of  the  former  in  behalf  of  a  crumbling  priesthood, 
whose  rule,  already  fallen  into  contempt  and  odium 
among  its  own  subjects,  was  confessedly  unsuited  to 
the  altered  tone  of  sentiment  prevalent  in  the  modern 
world?  What  common  action  can  there  be  on  the 
part  of  the  French  and  English  people,  after  such  a 
manifestation  of  attachment  to  the  old  doctrine  of 
"  divine  right"  on  the  part  of  a  government  of 
yesterday?  There  is  no  knowing  on  what  mutual 
foundation  we  are  to  base  our  alliance,  in  short.  And 
thus  the  idle  dream  of  a  cordial  co-operation  between 
the  two  countries  melts  away  into  thin  air;  and 
England  turns  to  the  more  comprehensible,  though 
ugly-looking  partnership  afforded  by  the  alliance  of 
Austria,  as  better  calculated  to  help  her  in  maintain- 
ing order  in  Euro^^e. 

The  two  great  elements  now  arrayed  against  each 


A  GLANCE    AT   MODERN    EUROPE.  233 

other  are,  democratic  doctrines,  and  resistance  by  the 
actual  depositaries  of  power  to  their  encroacliments. 

How  the  conflict  will  Anally  end,  is  perhaps  not 
diflicult  to  foresee.  But  the  phases  it  may  have  to 
pass  through  before  the  opposing  forces  come  to  a 
stand-still,  will  derive  their  complexion  and  im- 
portance from  the  individual  actions  of  existing 
governments.  And  the  interest  one  feels  in  the 
progress  of  this  vast  struggle  arises  from  watching 
the  conduct  of  these,  month  by  month.  The  popular 
party  naturally  make  blunders,  and  will  commit 
more;  whilst  the  reigning  parties  divide  their  tactics 
between  concession  and  duplicity:  and  concession 
oftentimes  proves  an  illusion;  witness  the  Austrian 
and  AYurtembero;  Governments'  retractation  of  those 
which  were  made  in  order  to  recover  their  position  in 
1848.  If  the  French  Revolution  gave,  as  it  seems  it 
did,  the  tirst  shake  to  absolute  government  through- 
out the  Continent,  it  is  not  from  that  quarter  that 
any  farther  help  is  to  be  expected  to  the  Liberal 
cause;  and  though  its  enemies  the  sovereigns  arc 
alarmed,  and  their  fears  lead  them  to  make  terras 
with  their  subjects  here  and  there,  the  powerful 
armies  of  Russia  and  Austria  will  probably  over- 
whelm all  resistance,  should  the  spirit  of  revolt 
become  sufficiently  general  to  call  for  the  employ- 
ment of  so  extreme  a  measure. 

The  hopes  of  advancing  in  the  path  of  reformation, 
then,  depend  on  the  peoples  keeping  within  the  limits 
of  this  necessity  their  manifestations  of  dissatisfaction. 
And  thus  a  grumbling  underground  portentous  note 
of  change  may  be  all  that  the  present  generation  arc 
destined    to  witness.     A  silent  revolution,  however, 


234       A  GLANCE  AT  MODERN  EUROPE. 

which  in  any  case  must  be  achieved,  has  its  advan- 
tages, though  it  is  difficult  to  appreciate  the  gain  of 
what  is  not  patent  and  tangible.  And  whether 
Europe  shall  become  much  the  wiser  or  happier  for 
the  great  organic  modifications  which  are  impending 
over  her  society,  must  in  the  end  depend  upon  the 
character  of  those  few  leadino:  minds  who  rise  to  in- 
fluence  under  a  new  form  of  government.  That  some 
men  worthy  of  their  sublime  mission  will  come  out  of 
the  melee,  can  hardly  be  doubted ;  when  they  must 
take  heed  lest  they  lose  the  fruit  of  sacrifices,  always 
serious,  often  ruinous  to  a  nation  in  revolt,  by  the 
fatal  process  of  conciliation  of  enemies :  a  process 
which  infallibly  leads  to  the  necessity  of  beginning 
the  work  anew.  In  conclusion,  the  sad  truth 
must  out,  that  England  and  France  never  can 
"  row  in  the  same  boat :"  we  may  be  thankful  if 
neither  nation  launch  their  "  boat"  at  all  upon  the 
ocean  of  strife,  for  the  chances  are  that  they  would 
be  found  on  opposite  sides  of  the  dispute.  This  re- 
flection, however,  need  not  prevent  our  remaining  on 
friendly  terms  with  our  great  neighbour  during  the 
prevalence  of  peace  in  Euroj^e:  for  which  let  us 
heartily  offer  up  our  prayers  to  Heaven. 


THE  "  SITUATION." 

Paris,  Nor.  1851. 

A  FRIEND  now  in  Paris  has  given  us  the  aid  of  a 
graphic  pen  to  realize  the  "  scene  "  in  the  French 
Assembly,  on  the  proposition  of  the  Questors  to  place 
an  independent  army  under  the  command  of  President 
Dupin  or  his  nominees;  and  has  added  some  specula- 
tions on  the  position  of  political  parties  in  Paris.  As 
a  description,  the  letter  speaks  for  itself:  as  an 
observer,  we  know  that  our  correspondent's  opportu- 
nities and  faculties  of  interpreting  the  true  political 
aspect  are  equally  of  the  best — {Spectator.) 

"  You  will  have  seen  the  accounts  given  by  the 
journals  of  the  agitated  seance  of  the  17th  instant, 
which  is  acknowledged  to  have  been  one  of  the  most 
exciting  performances  of  the  year.  I  was  fortunate 
in  obtaining  an  excellent  seat,  where  I  could  hear 
almost  every  word,  at  least  when  the  orator's  voice 
was  not  drowned  in  clamour  or  laughter.  The 
Chamber  was  excessively  full;  seven  hundred  or  more 
Deputies  being  present,  besides  numerous  clerks, 
officers,  and  attendants  :  the  tribunes  crowded  to  in- 
convenience, and  the  interest  taken  in  the  debate 
unusually  keen.  After  General  Leflo's  speech,  which 
was  listened  to  with  great  attention,  a  hubbub  arose, 
the  like  of  which  is  seldom  witnessed  even  in  the 
National  Assembly.  I  noted  the  duration  of  this 
disorderly  tunuilt  (for  such  one  may  term  it),  and  it 
was  precisely  half  an  hour.     The  President,  ]\I.  Dupin, 


236  THE  "situation." 

sat  passively  in  his  curulc  chair,  gazing  on  the  surg- 
ing waves  below,  ever  and  anon  giving  a  shake  of  tlie 
piercing  but  ineffective  brass  bell  at  his  elbow;  the 
ushers  shouting,  so  as  to  be  heard  above  the  storm, 
*  A  vos  places.  Messieurs  I'  '  Silence !'  '  En  place !'  &c. ; 
but  the  eager  and  confused  masses  engaged  in  talk, 
chiefly  in  the  middle  of  the  salle,  and  round  the 
President's  seat  and  tribune,  heeding  nothing  thereof; 
almost  every  member  of  the  Gauche  quitted  his  seat 
and  rushed  down  to  the  floor.  The  Faucher  section, 
as  I  may  call  it,  or  those  of  the  Mnjority  who  were 
resolved  to  resist  the  proposition  of  the  Questors  as 
leadhig  infallibly  to  some  overt  rupture  between  the 
powers  of  the  state,  remained  mostly  in  their  seats, 
awaiting  the  subsidence  of  the  uproar.  The  noise  was 
so  great  that  you  could  liardly  make  3'ourself  heard 
by  your  next  neighbour  in  the  tribune.  You  need 
not  to  be  told  that  the  appearance  of  M.  Thiers  at  the 
rostrum  was  productive  of  fresh  clamour  and  furious 
demonstrations  of  party  feeling.  Thiers  himself 
seemed  chokinc;  with  rao-e,  as  he  bandied  sarcasms 
with  his  skilful  opponent  Jules  Favre;  who  dexte- 
rously turned  upon  him  the  ridicule  of  the  Mountain 
and  the  contempt  of  the  Faucher  party,  feebly 
redeemed  by  a  few  straggling  cries  of  '  Tres  bien !' 

"  The  words  '  Comedie  de  la  peur,'  and  '  Reunion 
nocturne,'  were  used  in  an  allusion  to  the  farce  played 
off  by  M.  Thiers  and  a  few  of  his  adherents  on 
Thursday  night  the  13th  instant.  They  affected  to 
believe  that  a  violent  attack  on  the  independence 
of  the  Assembly  was  in  contemplation,  and  accord- 
ingly thought  proper  to  bivouac  there  all  night; 
sending  messengers  to  members  of  the  Gauche  in  all 


THE  "situation."  237 

directions,  to  urge  them  to  repair  to  the  Assembly  to 
aid  Thiers  and  his  party  in  defending  their  sacred 
rights,  &c.  Some  of  the  Gauche  complied,  and  have 
since  laughed  at  their  own  credulit3^ 

"  This  move  of  the  Questors,  you  must  know,  is 
universally  believed  to  have  been  the  work  of  M. 
Thiers;  who,  being  now  the  bitter  foe  of  the  Elysee, 
wanted  to  force  on  a  conflict,  which  would  either  put 
the  President  of  the  Republic  in  the  wrong,  or,  in  case 
of  his  compliance,  enable  him,  Thiers,  and  his  party, 
to  nominate  to  the  command  of  the  guard  at  the 
Chamber  a  man  understood  to  be  favourable  to  their 
political  purposes.  General  Changarnier,  if  so  nom- 
inated, would  not  scruple,  it  is  thought,  to  use  his 
authority  to  repress  the  pure  Republican  party,  and 
possibly  to  exalt  that  of  the  Royalists. 

"  The  Montague,  on  their  side,  discerning  pretty 
clearly  the  drift  of  this  scheme,  have  taken  part  with 
the  Executive,  and,  with  a  few  exceptions,  resisted  a 
proposition  which,  if  followed  out,  miglit  possibly  throw 
up  imforeseen  difficulties  in  the  way  of  the  repeal  of 
the  law  of  May  31,  the  favourite  object  of  this  section 
of  politicians.  Again,  the  Moderate  party,  layino- 
aside  their  enmities  and  wounded  amour-propre  (the 
effect  of  the  President's  offensive  message),  took 
counsel  together  on  Saturday  evening  last,  and 
determined  on  a  combined  opposition  to  the  proposi- 
tion, as  reported  by  M.  Vitet,  Vice-President  of  the 
Chamber;  and  this  for  the  sake  of  maintaining,  as 
long  as  it  should  be  feasible,  a  decent  accord,  or 
semblance  of  accord,  between  Louis  Napoleon  and  the 
Assembly,  in  the  obvious  interest  of  the  country  in 
general. 


233  THE    "  SITUATION." 

"  Now  the  upshot  of  tliis  cross  action  among  the 
sections  of  the  Assembly  is  somewhat  curious  to 
contemplate.  The  picture  is  placed  in  a  very 
different  light  since  last  August.  Then,  the  President 
had  managed,  through  the  address  and  unwearied  zeal 
of  M.  L^on  Faucher  and  his  colleagues,  to  make  up 
his  quarrel  with  the  Majority,  and  to  keep  the 
]\Iontagne  at  least  in  check.  The  actual  position  of 
affairs  throws  Louis  Napoleon  upon  the  Montague  for 
support,  and  arrays  the  two  sections  of  the  Majority 
against  each  other;  thus,  practically,  annulling  the 
formidable  combination  which  lately  threatened  to 
close  the  door  against  his  re-election. 

"  But,  whilst  it  is  undeniable  that,  pro  tanto^  he 
has  gained  by  the  dislocation  of  parties  till  now 
concurring  in  enmity  towards  himself,  yet  his  new 
allies  can  be  viewed  as  no  better  than  casual  sup- 
porters, who  will  desert  him  so  soon  as  he  has 
served  their  immediate  turn.  The  President,  there- 
fore, must  be  considered  in  the  light  of  a  desperate 
gamester,  who  accepts  any  sort  of  chance  of  bettering 
his  fortune,  come  from  what  source  it  may.  On  the 
other  hand,  the  Chamber  may  be  said  to  have  lost 
ground  by  the  late  exhibition,  and  to  have  furnished 
another  proof  of  their  entire  inability  to  pursue  any 
course  of  combined  action.  So  far,  indeed,  Louis 
Napoleon  may  be  considered  as  benefited  by  the 
passage  in  question :  his  opponents  are  discredited, 
and  are  more  disunited  than  before;  whilst  the 
Montague,  which  on  most  questions  votes  as  one  man, 
will  bear  him  through  the  impending  struggle  for  the 
repeal  of  the  unpopular  law. 

"  The  President  seems  to  have  sunk  extremely  low 


THE    "  SITUATION.'  239 

in  public  opinion,  as  far  as  I  have  had  opportunities 
of  observing;  and  if  ho  succeed  in  getting  himself 
illegally  re-elected,  it  can  only  be  through  the  absence 
of  any  more  acceptable  candidate;  since  the  ignorant 
or  blind  Napoleonist  votes  of  the  masses,  which 
would  remain  after  deducting  the  voters  for  the 
(inevitable)  Red  candidate,  could  hardly  outweigh 
the  votes  of  those  who  would  support  an  eligible 
Republican  name  (if  proposed)  rather  than  elect  a 
non-eligible  candidate.  Still,  there  is  always  the 
prodigious  advantage  on  his  side  of  being  a  prince, 
strange  though  it  sounds;  for  each  eminent  public 
man  feels  jealous  of  an  equal  in  rank,  and  grudges 
his  vote  to  assist  in  his  elevation,  whilst  a  prince  is 
already  placed  far  above  him,  and  his  farther  exalta- 
tion excites  no  sense  of  humiliation  in  the  unsuccess- 
ful party. 

"  The  Parisian  citizens  take  scarcely  any  interest 
in  the  squabbles  of  their  governors.  The  shopkeeper 
hopes  to  see  his  candidate,  if  possible,  succeed ;  but  if 
not,  I  really  believe  the  French  mind  is  become  so 
much  more  reasonable  than  it  was,  that  he  Avill 
accept  a  legitimate  defeat  without  being  roused  to 
anger.  The  longing  for  quiet,  and  to  be  allowed  to 
drive  their  trades  their  own  way,  is  become  a 
dominant  feeling,  as  I  am  told,  with  all  ranks  of 
Frenchmen." 


A  RURAL  EXCURSION  IN  FRANCE. 

Versailles,  Sept.  1,  1852. 

The  weather  has  been  so  fine  during  the  last  fort- 
night, that  to  pass  one's  day  out  of  doors,  like  "  the 
natives,"  has  become  well  nigh  a  habit  with  strangers. 
By  way  of  turning  one  of  these  beautiful  days  to 
account,  we  set  out  yesterday  on  a  little  excursion ; 
of  which  I  proceed  to  give  you  a  brief  sketch. 

Quitting  Versailles  by  the  Porte  de  Satory,  you 
ascend  a  hill,  from  which  the  traveller  obtains  a  noble 
prospect  over  the  town  and  surrounding  country. 
The  railroad  to  Chartres  passes  under  this  road ;  on 
the  top  of  the  hill  stretches  a  wide  and  extensive 
tract  of  level  ground,  called  the  Plaine  de  Satory, 
well  known  to  fame,  and  which  certainly  offers  un- 
usual advantages  as  a  field  for  military  displays.  The 
road  leads  from  this  height  down  a  pretty  dell  into 
La  Minierc,  a  narrow  gorge  richly  wooded,  forming 
the  limit  of  the  old  Pare  de  Versailles  of  Louis 
Quatorze's  creation.  We  next  traversed  the  dull  but 
productive  Plaine  de  Sacle,  reaching  about  four  miles 
to  the  south-west;  the  whole  surface  being  under 
the  careful  culture  of  large  occupiers,  and  evidently 
of  a  fertile  quality.  Fruit-trees,  in  abundant  bear- 
ing, border  the  road  the  whole  way,  and  in  some 
measure  compensate  the  eye  for  the  absence  of 
hedges.  When  we  had  passed  over  this  region,  we 
found  ourselves  on  the  verge  of  a  small  but  richl}-- 
wooded   valley,  divided    by  a    streamlet  and   green 


A  RURAL  EXCURSION  IN  FRANCE.       241 

meadows,  with  a  few  farm-buildings,  old  garden  walls, 
and  a  large  round  structure,  denoting  a  "  colombier," 
on  its  Northern  slope.  A  more  charming  site  could 
not  have  been  chosen  for  the  retreat  of  those  who 
once  illustrated  this  obscure  spot.  We  left  the 
carriage,  and,  walking  a  short  distance,  entered,  not 
without  pilgrim  emotions,  within  the  precincts  of 
Port  Royal  des  Champs!  The  destroying  spirit  of 
Persecution*  has  done  its  work  most  effectually,  by 
removing  all  traces  of  the  once  important  Abbaye,  as 
well  as  those  of  the  abodes  of  the  "  solitaires,"  who 
sought  the  society  of  the  "  sisters,"  and  the  means  of 
mutual  instruction,  in  these  calm  pleasing  solitudes. 
Nothing  remains  but  masses  of  loose  masonry,  and 
here  and  there  a  sort  of  crypt,  with  the  garden-walls, 
of  great  thickness,  buttressed  by  projecting  spurs, 
out  of  which  grow  huge  trunks  of  ivy,  doubtless 
coeval  with  the  period  of  Port  Royal's  prosperity. 
The  colombier  probably  also  dates  from  the  same. 
The  names  of  Arnauld,  Pascal,  Nicole,  and,  in  its 
way,  that  of  the  Duchesse  de  Longueville, — who 
filled  so  distinguished  a  place  in  her  country's 
domestic  history, — rise  to  the  memory  as  one  wanders 
over  the  ground  so  often  trodden  by  these  contempla- 
tive recluses.  No  one  who  has  learnt  to  value  the 
efforts  made  by  conscientious  thinkers  to  advance  the 
dignity  of  the  human  intellect,  can  visit  this  hallowed 
spot  without  reverence.  The  poor  nuns,  too,  suffered 
their  share  of  persecution  for  the  sake  of  their  mental 
independence,  and  must  be  numbered  with  the  noble 
women  Avho  have  deserved  the  crown   of  martyrdom 

*  Louis  XIV.  hunted  the  Jansenists  out,  and  razed  Port  Eoyal  to 
the  ground,  to  please,  it  was  said,  Madame  de  Maintenon. 

R 


242       A  RURAL  EXCURSION  IN  FRANCE. 

in  behalf  of  something  more  precious  than  a  visionary 
belief. 

Keluctantly  bending  our  steps  outwards,  we  now 
once  more  rolled  pleasantly  along  a  macadamized  road 
of  the  finest  sort,  through  more  corn  country,  and 
more  beladen  apple-trees,  for  about  three-quarters  of 
an  hour;  at  the  end  of  which  a  remarkably  fine  pros- 
pect opened  out  before  us.  From  the  summit  of  a 
high  2^1ateau  we  commanded  a  view  of  the  whole 
magnificent  valley  of  Dampierre,  one  of  the  most 
beautiful  m  France,  of  considerable  extent,  and  pre- 
senting, what  in  this  country  has  become  a  some- 
what rare  feature  in  its  landscapes — I  allude  to  the 
richly-timbered  park  and  princely  seat  of  a  real 
"  grand  seigneur." 

The  high  ground  on  the  farther  side  of  this  valley 
is  entirely  clothed  with  fine  timber  trees,  for  a  long 
distance;  whilst  the  other  slopes  ofter  also  a  goodly 
spectacle  of  mixed  forest  scenery,  with  broken  heatli- 
covered  banks.  The  eye  rests  delighted  on  such  a 
landscape,  the  like  of  which  in  England  it  would  be 
difficult  to  quote,  unless  perhaps  it  were  some  such 
spot  as  Helmsley  Dale,  (Lord  Feversham's  noble 
demesne  in  Yorkshire,)  or  Knowle  Park  and  its 
neighbourhood,  in  Kent.  The  timber  of  the  park  at 
Dampierre  is  of  a  still  finer  growth;  the  climate 
favouring  the  formation  of  forests  in  France  in  a  way 
to  excite  the  envy  of  English  visitors.  Ash-trees, 
with  a  clean  run  of  bole  seventy  feet  in  length  and 
two  or  more  in  diameter — chestnut,  oak,  and  abele  of 
imposing  size,  with  vigorous  large  foliage  and  undying- 
crowns — here  furnish  out  a  sylvan  picture  of  surpass- 
ing interest  to  tlie  admirer  of  the  vegetable  kingdom, 


A  RURAL  EXCURSION  IN  FRANCE.       243 

"Winding  down  by  a  skilfully  made  road,  we  gained 
tlie  lower  ground,  watered  by  the  little  river  Yvette, 
and  entirely  devoted  to  pasture,  the  herbage  of  which 
was  obviously  rich  and  nutritive.  The  village  of 
Dampierre,  seated  on  a  rise,  a  little  above  the  bed  of 
the  stream,  intersects,  as  it  were,  the  grounds  of  the 
Chateau  de  Dampierre :  before  the  gates  of  which  we 
soon  drew  up,  and  were  not  a  little  astonished  to 
behold  a  mansion  of  imposing  size,  surrounded  by 
gardens  and  dressed  grounds,  and  exhibiting  every 
mark  of  the  most  refined  recherche  taste  and  expen- 
sive keeping-up.  The  house  was  partially  destroyed 
during  the  Revolution,  as  were  most  of  the  residences 
of  the  noblesse;  but  the  j^roprietor  of  this,  the  Due 
de  Chevreuse,  not  having  emigrated,  his  estates  were 
restored  to  him  in  1815,  and  his  son,  who  now  bears 
the  title  of  Due  de  Luynes,  (they  alternate  these 
titles,  it  seems,)  caused  the  building  to  be  completely 
repaired,  so  that  no  signs  of  damage  are  discernible. 
The  house  is  of  the  latter  period  of  Louis  Quatorze, 
and  was  constructed  after  the  designs  of  Mansard. 
It  stands  in  water,  on  three  sides,  and  is  seated  in  the 
lowest  part  of  the  basin  of  the  valley — looking  up 
wide  alleys  cut  in  the  park,  and  surrounded  by  trim 
gardens,  decked  with  numerous  orange-trees  and  other 
choice  plants,  ranged  in  their  boxes  along  the  borders. 
Green  grass  plats  are  carefully  cherished  here,  being 
almost  the  onl}^  place  in  which  I  have  found  them : 
water,  always  at  hand,  enables  the  gardener  to  coun- 
teract the  effects  of  the  sun,  everywhere  else  fatal  to 
green-sward.  South  of  the  chateau,  and  amid  wavy 
woods,  is  a  lake  several  acres  in  extent,  with  sailing 
and  row  boats  moored  on  its  surface.     The  water  is 

r2 


244       A  RURAL  EXCURSION  IN  FRANCE. 

not  stagnant,  being  constantly  fed  by  the  stream 
running  through  this  valley;  and  as  we  walked  about 
the  gardens  we  saw  the  water  discharging  itself  by  a 
gentle  cascade,  Avhich  I  presume  never  ceases,  since 
it  is  fully  supplied  at  this  driest  of  all  seasons. 

The  interior  of  the  chateau  offers  little  to  describe. 
"We  saw  the  state  apartments  alone,  including  the 
chapel;  for,  as  is  usual  in  all  ancient  noble  establish- 
ments, the  Due  de  Lu3mes  keeps  his  family  priest, 
and  has  mass  said  daily.  There  are  few  pictures  of 
mark,  and  none  of  any  pretension  to  merit  as  works 
of  art,  in  the  rooms  we  passed  through ;  though  I  am 
inclined  to  believe  there  are  pictures  in  the  Duke's 
possession  worth  looking  at,  as  he  is  reputed  to  be  not 
only  fond  of  the  arts,  but  given  to  encourage  artists. 
The  only  object  of  interest  in  the  way  of  modern  art 
was  a  statue  of  Penelope  fallen  asleep  over  her  spindle ; 
very  creditably  executed,  by  a  French  sculptor.  In 
a  kind  of  crypt,  enclosed  within  iron-bound  doors,  we 
were  shown  a  silver  statue  of  Louis  the  Thirteenth, 
in  light  armour,  hat  and  feather;  life  size,  taken  at 
the  age  of  fifteen  or  sixteen  perhaps.  This  work, 
which  is  cleverly  designed,  was  intended  as  a  mark 
of  grateful  homage  on  the  part  of  a  Due  do  Luynes 
towards  the  founder  of  his  fortunes;  the  first  Due  de 
Luynes  having  risen  to  greatness  from  the  condition 
of  a  poor  Italian  gentleman,  named  Alberti,  througli 
the  favour  of  that  monarch.  He  married  into  the 
Montbazon  family,  refusing  an  alliance  with  the  niece 
of  the  King,  Mademoiselle  de  Vendome;  and  his 
family  may  be  considered  as  ranking  among  the  most 
honourable  of  the  nation.  The  present  head  of  the 
family  has  the  reputation   of   possessing    all  those 


A   RURAL   EXCURSION   IN   FRAN'CE.  245 

qualities  which  grace  high  birth  and  station.  Aiming 
at  no  great  political  importance,  he  employs  his 
ample  fortune  in  cultivating  the  arts,  (he  has  the 
finest  private  collection  of  medals  perhaps  in  the 
kingdom,)  in  promoting  philanthropic  undertakings, 
and  in  rendering  useful  services  to  those  who  need 
liis  generous  assistance;  a  high-bred  personal  bearing 
conferring  the  last  charm  upon  a  character  otherwise 
entitled  to  respect  and  love, — in  short,  a  FrencJi 
Ellesmere. 

I  have   no   more    room,  so  will  close    my  sheet. 
Accept  this  sketch  for  what  it  is  worth. 


THE  WAR  FROM  AN  UNPOPULAR  POINT 
OF  VIEW. 

LETTER      I. 

Beaconsfield,  26tli  November,  1855. 
Sir, — In  Sir  Arthur  Elton's  letter  wliicli  he  adclressed 
to  you  last  week,  he  asks  "  Where  do  the  advocates 
of  war  propose  to  stop?"  It  seems  to  me  nowise 
difficult  to  answer  this  query.  The  "  advocates" 
doubtless  propose  to  "  stop"  nowhere  short  of  their 
avowed  end;  which,  as  all  English  people  know,  or 
may  know,  consists  in  putting  a  check  upon  the 
power  of  the  Czar  in  the  South  of  Europe.  Whether 
this  be  accomplished  by  driving  Russia  out  of  the 
Crimea,  or  by  destroying  her  Baltic  fortresses,  or  by 
gradually  exhausting  licr  resources,  is  not  material. 
We  shall  assault  and  batter  her  in  every  way  in 
which  our  armies  and  fleets  can  be  employed  to 
cripple  and  injure  an  enemy,  with  the  view  to  compel 
her  to  accept  such  conditions  of  peace  as  the  Western 
Powers  deem  available  to  the  declared  purpose, — 
namely,  tlie  prevention  of  aggressive  acts  towards 
Turkey,  as  well  in  Asia  as  on  the  Continent  of 
Europe. 

Thus  much  for  the  avowed  aims  and  ends  of  this 
gigantic  war.  Now,  then,  I  would  beg  to  inquire 
who  are  the  parties  most  interested  in  keeping  Russia 
out  of  Turkey?  Is  it  not  the  Turks  themselves,  who 
have  in  fact  shown  that  they  are  able  and  willing  to 


THE  WAR  FROM  AN  UNPOPULAR  POINT  OF  VIEW.      247 

repel  Russian  invaders?  They  repulsed  the  Russians 
on  the  Danube,  forcing  them  to  retire,  after  a  series 
of  defeats,  beyond  the  Pruth:  and  has  not  Omar 
Pasha  beaten  them  at  Ingour;  and  has  not  the  army 
of  General  Mouravieff  received  a  complete  discom- 
fiture by  Turkish  troops  before  Kars?  If  I  am  told 
that  the  repulse  of  the  Russians  may  prove  merely  a 
temporary  advantage,  and  that,  without  foreign 
assistance,  Turkey  will  after  no  long  interval  succumb 
to  renewed  attacks,  I  rejoin,  that  it  is  not  competent 
for  a  nation  to  go  to  war  simply  because  she  regards 
some  other  nation  as  likely  to  grow  too  formidable. 
If  Russia  has  designs  upon  Constantinople,  it  would 
be  easy  for  the  Western  Powers  to  ^^'atch  her,  and 
to  furnish  Turkey  with  means  and  appliances 
calculated  to  defeat  such  designs.  That  is,  supposing 
it  of  vital  importance  that  Turkey  ishould  be  upheld 
in  her  integrity;  a  point  which  I  will  concede,  if 
only  for  the  sake  of  following  out  the  views  of  the 
AVar  party  and  canvassing  their  merits. 

Now,  having  conceded  this,  I  will  pursue  the 
inquiry  as  to  what  European  peoples,  apart  from  the 
Turkish,  are  interested  in  preserving  the  dominions 
of  the  Sultan  intact.  Is  it  the  Jewish  or  Christian 
subjects  of  the  Sultan?  I  doubt  it.  The  majority 
of  the  subjects  of  Turkey  in  Europe  feel  no  attach- 
ment to  the  Porte,  by  whose  officials  they  are 
oppressed  and  insulted,  and  treated  as  inferior  beings. 
Surely  the  example  of  Russian  rule,  as  exhibited 
under  the  mild,  just,  and  prosperous  government  of 
Prince  Woronzow  over  South  Russia,  for  the  last 
nine  years,  up  to  1854,  must  have  had  its  effect  in 
disposing  those  various  races — over  whom  the  Sultan 


248  THE    WAR   FROM  AN 

reigns  equally  with  Turks  proper — to  regard  the 
advent  of  the  Russians  as  anything  but  a  misfortune. 
And,  to  say  the  truth,  all  impartial  lookers-on  must 
confess  that  the  administration  of  which  Odessa  is  the 
head-quarters  offers  a  pleasing  contrast  to  that  of  the 
IMahometan  prince.  Lord  Stanley,  with  much  frank- 
ness, recently  exclaimed,  "  God  forbid  we  should  be 
fighting  for  Mahometanism !"  Taken  on  its  own 
merits,  no  humane  Englishman  ought  to  do  so.  But 
neither  would  I  have  him  fi2;ht  to  exterminate  Mussul- 
men,  as  such.  The  Mahometan  creed  is  there,  with 
all  its  attributes,  and  its  civil  disabilities  as  enforced 
against  such  of  the  subjects  of  the  Porte  as  profess 
Christianity, — a  dismal  spectacle  enough  for  an 
European,  certainly,  but  one  which  is  conveniently 
lost  sight  of  when  we  talk  of  "  fighting  for  the  inde- 
pendence and  civilization  of  nations,"  as  is  now 
commonly  done  at  our  public  dinners  and  meetings 
in  England. 

In  calling  the  attention  of  a  warlike  friend  to  these 
inconsistencies  on  our  parts,  he  replied,  "Yes,  I  allow 
that  to  uphold  the  actual  regime  in  Turkey  would 
not,  properly  speaking,  appear  to  be  promoting  the 
civilization  and  independence  we  talk  so  much  about : 
but,  3'OU  see,  we  intend  to  press  humane  and  equit- 
able changes  upon  that  Government;  changes  calcu- 
lated to  strengthen  its  hold  upon  the  various  fractions 
of  its  subjects,  and  to  improve  its  internal  position." 

Now  to  the  force  of  this  plea  I  demur,  on  two 
grounds.  Firstl}^,  because  I  conceive  that  the  real 
power  of  the  Sultan  would  not  be  reinforced,  but 
rather  the  contrary,  by  letting  in  the  Christian 
element,  thereby  arousing   violent    jealousy  in   the 


UNPOPULAR   POINT   OF   VIEW.  249 

minds  of  "  the  faithful ;"  secondly,  because  I  would 
deprecate  interference  with  the  interior  administration 
of  another  country,  on  principle.  Furthermore,  it  is 
exceedingly  probable  that  the  interests  of  Russia 
would  be  promoted  by  placing  members  of  the  Greek 
Church  in  situations  of  influence  and  authority  in 
Turkey.  What  more  natural  than  that  the  religious 
affinity  which  subsists  between  the  Russians  and  the 
inhabitants  of  some  of  the  fairest  provinces  on  the 
Danube  should  operate  in  favour  of  the  protector  and 
head  of  that  particular  section  of  Christian  believers? 
I  cannot,  therefore,  help  concluding  that  the  Porte 
would  lose  rather  than  gain,  by  relaxing  their  actual 
political  disabilities,  and  admitting  Greek  Christians 
to  official  charo^es. 

If,  indeed,  the  national  sentiment  of  England  were 
sincerely  bent  upon  enforcing  humane  and  civilized 
government  upon  a  neighbour  for  its  own  sake,  we 
need  not  travel  so  far  to  find  a  fit  occasion  for  dis- 
playing that  sentiment.  An  ample  field  presents, 
itself  in  the  South  of  Europe,  where  two  peoples, 
highly  favoured  by  nature,  inhabiting  two  countries) 
each  capable  of  bearing  all  kind  of  fruitful  produce, 
lie,  people  and  land,  beneath  a  withering,  baleful 
despotism,  which  excites  the  pity  and  arouses  the  ire 
of  all  generous  beholders.  If  we  must  go  forth  to 
redress  the  wrongs  of  suffering  fellow  men,  by  all 
means  let  us  have  a  crusade  to  the  shores  of  Parthe- 
nope  and  to  the  city  seated  on  the  seven  hills ! 

But  no :  one  of  these  odious  despots  is  under  the 
special  protection  of  our  supposed  German  ally;  the 
other,  under  that  of  a  power  whose  aid  we  are  unable 
to  dispense  with  in  the  prosecution   of  the  present 


250  THE    WAR   FROM    AN 

war.  Let  us  then  drop  the  flimsy  pretence  of  ii 
chivalrous  purpose,  and  avow  that  the  real  motives 
for  attackinc:  Russia  lie  in  the  alarm  we  feel  lest  she 
should  stretch  her  dominion,  first  towards  Egypt, 
and  next  towards  the  frontier  of  Caubul,  and  so, 
doubly  threaten  the  possessions — I  might  perhaps 
say  the  ill-gotten  possessions — of  Great  Britain  in 
Asia.  Clearsighted  Frenchmen  are  perfectly  aware 
that  these  fears  constitute,  with  us,  the  impelling 
causes  of  the  war.  "  We  understand  them,"  said  M. 
de  L.  to  me  in  May  last;  "and  we  accordingly  do 
not  wonder  at  the  extravagant  homage  which  you 
islanders  lavish  on  our  master,*  since  he  lends  you 
powerful  armies  to  fight  your  battles ;  for  yours  they 
unquestionably  are,  and  not  ours."  "Well,"  I 
replied,  "  if  he  does  so,  he  doubtless  finds  his  account 
in  it."  "  True,"  rejoined  M.  de  L,,  "  he  does  so  find 
it;  but  France  has  not  the  slightest  interest  in  this 
conflict.  She  ought  rather  to  wish  for  the  mainte- 
nance than  the  destruction  of  a  maritime  power 
capable  of  holding  your  domineering  navy  in  check 
in  the  Mediterranean :  and  then  France  has  no 
Oriental  conquests  to  defend.  But  Louis  Napoleon 
was  glad  to  enter  into  alliance  with  a  first-rate  Euro- 
pean power,  on  any  terms.  Your  Court  alone,  on  the 
occasion  of  the  coiq:)  d'etat^  manifested  a  disposition  to 
recognise  him  and  his  dynasty;  and  in  return,  he  has 
expended  freely,  for  English  objects,  the  blood  and 
treasure  of  his  helpless  subjects.     The  French  have, 

*  It  is  rare  to  Lear  Frenclimcu  of  any  class  use  the  words  Emperor, 
Sovereign,  or  Monarch,  in  reference  to  their  present  ruler.  Tliey 
habitually  say  "  celui-ci,"  or  "  notrc  monsieur,"  and  sometimes  "notre 
maitre — seldom  "  Louis  Napoleon"  even. 


UNPOPULAR   POINT   OF   VIEW.  251 

it  is  true,  always  a  certain  relish  for  war;  being,  as 
we  ourselves  say,  born  hatailleurs ;  and  since,  pro- 
bably, this  contest  will,  sooner  or  later,  bring  sonic 
territorial  advantage  with  it  to  France,  it  may  tend 
to  popularize  the  present  reign :  and  military  enter- 
prises being,  as  I  have  observed,  the  favourite  voca- 
tion of  the  French,  it  suits  the  personal  motives  of 
Louis  Napoleon  to  carry  on  some  such ;  for,  whilst 
the  public  is  excited  by  prodigious  external  opera- 
tions, plots  and  factions  at  home  are,  in  a  manner, 
hushed  and  shelved,  and  the  national  vanity  overrides 
all  other  feelings."  "  All  that  you  say  may  be  well 
founded,"  I  said,  "  but,  somehow  or  another,  it  seems 
to  me  that  you  Frenchmen  act  as  if  you  believed, 
along  with  my  countrymen,  in  the  generous  aims  wc 
talk  of?"  "Not  so,"  answered  M.  de  L.;  "we/v/A^, 
as  you  have  commonly  done,  equally  well  without  a 
good  cause  as  with  one ;  we  have,  however,  no  voice 
in  the  matter.  Our  present  ruler  consults  only  his 
own  will,  and  disposes  of  his  subjects'  life  and  pro- 
perty with  quite  as  little  concern  for  what  they  wish 
or  feel,  as  does  the  ruler  of  that  nation  whom  he 
proposes  to  advance  in  '  civilization'  and  '  indepen- 
dence,'— after  the  mode  of  the  old  saying,  '  lucus  a 
non  lucendo,'  I  presume." 

Having  disposed  of  the  false  pretences  on  which  the 
war  was  undertaken,  I  propose,  in  another  letter,  to 
consider  the  real  objects;  the  importance  of  which,  to 
England,  I  am  far  from  denying,  whilst  I  regret  to 
think  them  uncertain  of  attainment. 


252  THE   WAR   FROM   AN 


LETTER  II. 

December,  1855. 
Sir, — 111  my  first  letter,  it  was  sought  to  prove  that 
the  "  flourisli"  about  upholding  the  independence  and 
civilization  of  other  nations  was  a  mere  pretence ;  that 
the  sole  purpose  in  view  was,  and  is,  the  keeping 
Constantinople  out  of  the  hands  of  Russia,  whilst  at 
the  same  time  the  permanence  of  Turkish  rule  is 
obviously  becoming  less  and  less  an  object  of  solici- 
tude. In  fact,  after  the  Turk  has  allowed  foreign 
armies  to  come  and  occupy  his  capital  and  to  fight 
his  battles,  it  is  pretty  certain  that  the  prestige  of  his 
authority  must  have  undergone  so  great  a  diminution 
at  home,  that  the  disaffected  portion  of  Turkey  in 
Europe  is  likely  to  become  troublesome,  and  will 
probably  be  disposed  to  throw  off  the  Mussulman  yoke 
at  the  earliest  opportunity. 

Then  will  commence  a  process,  for  anticipating  the 
occasion  of  whicii  much  obloquy  has  been  cast  upon 
the  late  Emperor  Nicholas.  The  dominions  of  the 
Sultan  must  be  "rearranged;"  we  shall  have  helped 
"  the  sick  man"  to  repel  his  danger  so  effectively  that 
he  himself  will  be  destroyed  in  the  struggle.  For, 
supposing  that  a  cessation  of  hostilities  should  be 
brought  about  by  Russia's  consenting  to  lessen  her 
maritime  force  in  the  Black  Sea,  and  by  her  cove- 
nanting to  respect  the  "  independence  of  Turkey" — 
politically  speaking — I  must  take  leave  to  doubt  the 
Czar's  disposition  to  observe  the  engagement  any 
longer  than  he  finds  it  enforced  by  the  attitude  of  the 


UNPOPULAR   POINT   OF   VIEW.  253 

Western  Powers.  Therefore  Turkey  must  either  be 
left  to  be  attaekecl  and  subdued  at  a  later  day,  or  the 
Western  Powers  must  "  occupy"  the  territory ;  and 
what,  I  beg  to  inquire,  Avill  this  be,  except  taking 
possession  of  the  "  heritage  du  malade?" 

Again,  I  hold  it  to  be  a  serious  difficulty  in  the 
way  of  such  a  proceeding,  that  the  population  of 
Turkey,  whether  Mussulman  or  Christian,  feels  averse 
to  the  religious  creed  professed  by  France  and  England. 
It  is  true  that  small  account  is  ever  taken  of  the 
feelings  of  a  conquered  and  ignorant  people,  or  of  the 
preference  they  may  entertain  for  this  or  that  ruler 
by  their  invaders :  but  in  the  case  of  the  Romaic  races, 
and  others,  spread  over  that  vast  tract  of  country, 
any  discontent  which  might  exist  would  be  fomented, 
and  possibly  fanned  into  active  resistance,  by  the 
powerful  neighbour  who  possesses  a  spiritual  affinity 
and  headship  over  these  people.  The  whole  body  of 
Greek  priesthood  even  now  work  heartily  in  favour  of 
Russian  ascendancy ;  and  we  all  know  how  potent  an 
engine  sectarian  influence  is  with  half-educated  minds, 
(and,  indeed,  over  full^^-educated  ones,  for  that 
matter,)  and  how  difficult  it  would  be  for  us  to  cope 
with  this  advantaire. 

o 

I  regard  the  maintenance  of  the  Turkisli  rule,  in 
short,  as  out  of  the  question,  let  this  war  end  when  it 
may.  And  it  is  not  easy  to  speculate  on  the  mode  of 
replacing  that  rule,  otherwise  than  by,  as  usual, 
clapping  a  foreign  King  upon  the  throne.  We  have 
heard  it  whispered  that  the  Duke  of  Cambridge  might, 
if  inclined,  play  a  bold  stroke  for  a  crown,  and  be 
enthroned  as  sovereign  of  the  Danubian  Principalities 
— which,  indeed,  might  hereafter  lead  to  his  establish- 


254  THE    WAR    FROM   AN 

ment  as  king  over  Turkey  also.  Far  be  it  from  me 
to  entertain  any  repugnance  to  a  contingency  pro- 
mising so  much  advantage  to  a  fine  country  and  to 
well-disposed  industrious  peoples;  but  it  would 
scarcely  find  favour  in  the  eyes  of  France.  No  doubt 
Austria  must  be  compelled  to  relinquish  the  "  occu- 
pation," and  to  waiveher  pretensions  to  the  exclusive 
right  of  watching  over  the  navigation  of  the  Danube. 
She  has  acted  so  equivocal  a  part  all  through  the 
dispute  with  Russia,  that  it  would  be  no  very  harsh 
measure  on  our  side  were  we  to  refuse  to  let  her 
exercise  any  authority  over  the  Principalities  in  time 
to  come.  France  will  in  all  likelihood  expect  to 
receive  some  advantage  from  the  "  settling"  of  the 
aftairs  of  Turkey;  and  nothing  would  suit  the  em- 
peror better  than  to  establish  a  military  post  on  the 
Bosphorus,  such  as  might  constitute  the  nucleus  of  a 
future  empire,  and  meantime  enable  him  to  push  his 
advantages  in  a  thousand  ways  in  the  East :  and  for 
an  opening  such  as  this,  the  French  people  would 
have  cause  to  feel  really  grateful  to  their  sovereign. 

Now,  sir,  if  these  vaticinations  have  any  reason- 
able basis,  you  must  perceive  Avhat  a  perplexing  tissue 
of  consequences  connects  itself  with  their  fulfilment. 
It  is  not  to  be  expected  that  Austria  should  quietly 
look  on  and  allow  France  and  England  to  erect  them- 
selves into  "  executors  and  assigns"  of  the  expiring 
state.  We  must  not  pass  over  the  liostility  which 
would  animate  the  Court  of  King  Otho,  or  the  general 
aversion  with  which  French  ascendancy  would  be 
regarded ;  though  that  nation  has  contrived  to  earn  a 
reputation  for  abusing  it  wherever  it  has  been  planted. 
But  I  look  chiefly  to  the  opposition  of  Austria,  which 


UNPOPULAR   POINT   OF   VIEW.  255 

might,  not  unnaturally,  end  in  her  making  common 
cause  with  Russia. 

In  any  case,  mucli  embarrassment  will  attend  the 
ultimate  distribution  of  those  countries.  The  inha- 
bitants of  ]\[oldavia  and  Wallachia,  I  have  reason  to 
believe,  would  prefer  to  fall  under  Russian  rule  rather 
than  under  Austrian.  Perhaps  the  simplest  way  out 
of  this  dilemma  would  be,  to  let  those  peoples  choose 
a  Government  for  themselves.  Will  the  Allies  accept 
so  humiliating  a  solution  ?     I  fear  not. 

Conversing  with  a  German  friend  lately  (not  an 
Austi'ian)  on  these  thorny  questions,  he  remarked, 
"  Settle  the  Turkish  succession  as  you  will,  we 
Germans  can  never  approve  your  course.  If  you  give 
advantages  to  Austria,  we  shall  all  condemn  the  deci- 
sion of  the  Allies.  If  you  augment  the  power  and 
credit  of  France,  the  sentiment  will  be  little  less 
acrimonious.  What  renders  Germany  (and  I  always 
include  kings  and  subjects  in  the  word)  so  apathetic 
about  this  contest,  is,  first,  the  feeling  of  deep  hatred 
towards  the  French,  (for  which,  God  knows,  ample 
ground  exists!)  and  secondly,  a  cold,  jealous  distrust 
of  England.  AVhen  any  one  of  our  numerous  states 
has  attempted  to  better  its  political  condition  by 
resistance  to  misrule,  the  Government  of  England  has 
thrown  cold  water  upon  its  efforts.  In  1848,  your 
tlien  Forei2:n  Minister  went  so  far  as  to  use  menacino- 
language  towards  the  patriotic  few  who  strove  to  kindle 
public  spirit  and  effect  needful  reforms.  England  is, 
in  truth,  never  found  on  the  side  of  peoples^  but 
always  casts  her  weight  into  the  opposite  scale.  And, 
I  tell  you  plainly,  ice  fear  France  quite  as  much  or 
more  than  Russia,  and  wonder  how  you  can  fail  to 


25G  THE   WAR   FROM   AN 

fipprehend  danger  from  her  stupendous  military  orga- 
nization; connected  as  it  is  with  anti-social  passions, 
an  unscrupulous  government,  and  an  overweening 
national  vanity."  "I  agree  with  you,"  said  I,  "in 
rec'ardin":  France  with  uneasiness:  but  you  must 
observe  that  she  can  only  send  armies  to  the  south  of 
Europe,  or  into  Asia,  on  shipboard ;  which  insures  to 
England  a  certain  control  over  her  movements  by 
reason  of  our  naval  superiority — whilst  Russia  can 
pour  down  her  hosts,  landwards,  into  Bulgaria,  or  into 
Syria  and  Egypt."  "  Well,  but  what  do  you  say  to 
Cherbourg?"  rejoined  my  Wirtemburgher  friend; 
"  look  at  that  splendid  port,  with  its  vast  docks  and 
arsenal,  and  couple  these  with  their  propinquity  to  your 
shores!  Why,  the  money  expended  on  Cherbourg, 
during  the  last  forty  or  fifty  years,  far  exceeds  in 
amount  the  outlay  upon  Sebastopol!"  "Yes,"  I 
answered,  "  the  rise  and  expansion  of  Cherbourg  is, 
beyond  question,  a  formidable  fact.  But  the  English 
seldom  look  far  forward;  they  always  adapt  their 
national  policy  and  measures  to  circumstances  as  they 
arise.  We  happen  to  be  on  friendly,  nay,  on  loving 
terms  with  the  French  emperor  just  now;  so  John 
Bull  takes  little  heed  of  what  changes  may  by  and  by 
supervene.  Before  this  hot  friendship  sprang  up 
(from  motives  which  were  sketched  out  in  my  former 
communication,)  we  really  icere  alarmed  lest  Louis 
Napoleon  should  come  over  and  ravage  our  defenceless 
cities  and  lands,  if  he  did  no  more.  But  these  fears 
were  dissipated  by  a  sudden  gust  of  nuitual  interest, 
and  we  went  off  to  the  East  together."  "  Your 
interests,"  said  my  interlocutor,  "  are  more  commer- 
cial than   anything  else.      Y"ou  want  to  have  '  the 


UNPOPULAR   POINT   OF   VIEW.  257 

run'  of  the  Black  Sea  with  all  its  immense  supplies, 
and  also  to  keep  the  Red  Sea  passage  open  for  your 
Indian  trade."  "  Exactly  so,"  I  retorted;  "but  why 
we  should  not  be  able  to  trade  in  the  Black  Sea, 
equally  under  Russian  as  under  Turkish  rule,  I  am 
at  a  loss  to  guess.  Russia  is  more  indebted  to  her 
commerce  than  to  any  other  source  for  her  increased 
importance,  and  the  English  are,  perhaps,  about  her 
best  customers."  "Well,  but  you  are  not  sure  of 
Egypt  continuing  unmolested,  if  Russia  should  grasp 
the  parent  state,"  said  the  German.  "  Agreed,"  I 
replied;  "  but  if  we  could  defend  Egypt  successfully 
against  France,  what  is  to  make  us  incapable  of 
defending  it  against  Russia?" 

Englishmen  really  talk  about  the  "  designs  of  the 
Czar"  as  something  which  it  would  be  vain  to  gain- 
say,— as  though  we,  and  every  one  else,  would  be 
easily  beaten  out  of  every  possession  which  he  might 
think  fit  to  attack !  No  more  talk  of  Eng-land's  mae:- 
nificent  ships  or  floating  batteries,  of  her  gallant 
soldiers,  of  her  admirable  artillery,  from  the  instant 
Russia  is  named  as  a  possible  assailant.  Yet  the 
Times  is  perpetually  putting  forward  the  superiority 
of  the  Western  armies  in  open  conflict,  and  adducing 
the  victories  over  Russian  troops  by  even  Turkish 
arms,  as  evidence  how  little  she  is  to  be  dreaded 
as  an  attackhig  foe.  For  my  part,  I  see  even 
less  difficulty  in  barring  out  Russia  from  Egypt, 
should  she  make  the  essay,  than  in  keeping  her 
out  of  Turkey.  And  granting  that  she  might  get 
possession  of  Egypt, — which,  however,  is  a  mon- 
strous hypothesis, — she  Avould  never  find  it  her 
interest    to    isolate    that    country    from    European 


258     THE  WAR  FROM  AN  UNPOPULAR  POINT  OF  VIEW. 

commerce;  her  principal  object  being  to  enrich  her 
people. 

I  conclude  my  long  disquisition  by  repeating,  that 
the  real  objects  of  this  ruinous  war  seem  to  me  as 
disproportionate  to  the  sacrifices  it  involves,  and  as 
little  calculated  to  realize  tangible  benefits  to  Great 
Britain,  as  any  war  which  could  in  these  times  be 
undertaken.  The  avowed  purposes*  are  a  sham ;  the 
real  motives  are  the  offspring  of  a  timorous  panic 
and  delusion,  reflecting  small  honour  upon  English 
dignity  and  self-reliance. 


*  Id  est,  the  desire  to  uphold  "  civilization  and  the  independence  of 
nations," 


AN  ENGLISH  RAMBLE. 

24tli  August,  1857. 

Few  of  the  counties  of  England  would  seem  to  offer 
less  attraction  to  tourists  than  the  agricultural 
district  of  Buckinghamshire;  nevertheless,  a  ramble 
through  its  well-cultivated  farms  and  truly  primitive 
villages  is  not  without  interest  to  those  who  can  take 
pleasure  in  rural  scenery  not  unmixed  with  anti- 
quarian features.  Such  an  excursion  the  writer 
lately  made,  starting  from  Chalfont  St.  Giles,  im- 
mortalized by  having  been  for  a  time  inhabited  by 
John  Milton,  during  the  plague  of  London  in  1666. 
Passing  through  the  cheerful  little  town  of  Amersham, 
you  come  to  Shardeloes,  the  residence  of  Mr.  Drake, 
delightfully  situate  on  rising  ground,  which  is  clothed 
with  noble  timber  for  some  distance,  the  valley  below 
being  watered  by  the  stream  of  the  Misbourne,  here 
collected  into  a  somewhat  extensive  lake.  Great 
Missenden  is  an  ordinary  country  village  nestled 
between  the  hills:  soon  after  quitting  which,  we 
opened  upon  the  Chiltern  Hills,  a  chalk  range  run- 
ning South-west  and  North-east,  and  forming  the 
lower  boundary  of  the  Yale  of  Aylesbury.  The 
little  town  of  Wendover  appeared  the  very  abode  of 
dulness,  as  we  quietly  entered  it  between  five  and  six 
in  the  evening  of  a  beautiful  summer's  day.  Hardly 
a  human  being  was  visible,  harvest-time  having 
emptied  the  dwellings  even  to  the  children,  who  are 
useful  in  the  general  work  of  "  leasing,"  or  gleaning, 

s  2 


260  AN    ENGLISH    RAMBLE. 

in  the  wheat  stubbles.  This  solitude  and  repose  was, 
however,  anything  but  unwelcome;  for  the  weather 
was  delightful,  and  the  landscape  truly  English.  The 
church,  embosomed  in  trees;  the  fields  around  richly 
studded  with  sheaves  of  corn;  the  cattle  at  graze; 
and  the  hills  tufted  with  shrubs,  box,  juniper,  and  the 
like, — altogether  it  was  a  scene  at  once  cheerful, 
attractive,  and  picturesque.  From  this  to  Aylesbury 
nothing  interesting,  save  to  the  farmer.  From 
Aylesbury  (a  thriving  country-town,)  we  took  the 
Buckingham  road  for  five  miles,  diverging  to  the  left, 
intending  to  visit  the  village  of  Oving,  where  there  is 
a  fine  old  seat  of  the  Aubreys:  but  the  road  being 
intricate  we  took  a  wrong  turn,  and  found  ourselves 
at  another  village,  which  on  inquiry  we  learnt  was 
North  Marston. 

^rethought  the  cliurch  appeared  worthy  of  a  visit ; 
accordingly  we  ascended  the  hill  on  which  it  stands. 
Some  urchins,  who  ran  after  us  ofi'ering  to  hold  our 
horse,  went  and  fetched  the  cottager  woman  who  kept 
"  the  kay  of  the  church."  On  entering,  I  was 
surprised  to  perceive  a  very  handsome  painted  glass 
window,  evidently  of  recent  date :  a  substantial  oaken 
ceiling,  with  pendants  and  roses,  carved  seats,  com- 
munion-tablets, handsomely  fitted;  everything  neat 
and  well  cared  for.  The  exterior  oiFered  unusual 
architectural  beauty,  the  nave  being  decorated  with 
numerous  Gothic  pinnacles.  I  expressed  to  the  good 
woman,  our  conductress,  my  wonder  at  all  this,  and 
asked  who  had  embellished  this  church. 

Woman — "The  Queen,  to  be  sure." 

Traveller — "  The  Queen !  what  could  she  have  to 
do  with  it?" 


AN    ENGLISH   RAMBLE.  261 

Woman — "  Why,  a  precious  good  deal,  I'se  warrant. 
Did  ye  never  hear  of  one  John  Camden  Xeild — a 
great  miser — what  left  all  his  money  and  his  lands  to 
the  Queen?" 

Traveller — "  Well,  I  think  I  do  recollect,  some  few 
years  back,  hearing  of  a  great  legacy  which  had  been 
left  to  the  Queen.  Was  it  about  here  that  the  lands 
lay?" 

Woman — "Aye,  sure!  Mr.  Neild  owned  ever  so 
many  farms  round  about  this  here  place." 

Traveller — "Had  he  any  residence  in  the  village?" 

Woman — "  Xo :  he  used  to  come  and  dra'  his  rents 
his  own  self,  and  then  he  stopped  with  one  of  his 
tenants,  handy  here :  he  lived  very  close,  and  had 
saved  up  millions  of  money." 

Traveller — "  Millions  !  that's  not  to  be  believed.  I 
thought  I  heard  that  what  he  left  to  the  Queen  was 
about  a  hundred  thousand  pounds,  or  there-away." 

Woman — "  Lor  blessy !  'twas  ever  so  much  more 
nor  that." 

Traveller — "  I  can't  think  it,  somehow." 

Woman  —  (looking  embarrassed)  —  "  Well,  how 
much  is  a  million?" 

Traveller — "Why,  a  million  is  ten  hundred  thousand 
pounds." 

Woman — (with  a  gesture  of  impatience,  and  pro- 
ceeding to  open  an  inner  door) — "  Ah !  he'd  more  nor 
that  round  here  away,  let  alone  other  places." 

Over  the  communion-table,  and  under  the  hand- 
some window  I  have  mentioned,  is  an  inscription  in 
old  English  characters  painted  on  a  gold  ground  in 
memory  of  the  testator,  John  Camden  Neild ;  placed 
there  by  order  of  the  Queen. 


262  AN   ENGLISH   RAMBLE. 

Proceeding  about  two  miles  fartlicr,  I  reached  the 
village  of  Granborough,  with  a  little  plain  church, 
its  cottages  scattered  in  clusters,  and  offering  indu- 
bitable indications  of  comfort  and  decent  habits  in 
the  residents.  The  harvest  had  caused  the  cottages 
to  be  deserted  by  their  owners;  a  few  children  (and 
those  healthy  and  well  fed)  being  the  only  living 
things  to  be  seen.  At  Granborough  I  halted  for 
refreshment ;  finding,  by  good  luck,  what  has  of  late 
years  become  but  too  rare,  a  jug  of  genuine  home- 
brewed beer.  The  landlord  and  his  dame,  full  of 
civility,  produced  all  that  their  humble  house 
aftorded;  and  both  I  and  my  horse  left  the  spot  with 
renewed  energies.  Our  road  to  Steeple  Claydon  lay 
through  pasturage  enclosures,  the  gates  of  which  were 
many  and  tedious  to  open.  Passing  through  the 
grounds  of  Sir  Harry  Verncy,  Bart.,  M.P.,  we  stopped 
to  look  at  the  Church  of  Middle  Claydon,  which  adjoins 
his  time-honoured  mansion,  formerly  the  seat  of  the 
ancient  family  of  Chaloner :  the  park  is  enlivened  by 
a  sheet  of  water,  and  is  well  timbered.  Mounting  a 
neighbouring  hill,  I  found  myself  at  Steeple-Claydon, 
— a  place  interesting  to  me  on  account  of  my  rela- 
tionship with  this  family  of  Chaloner,  many  members 
of  which  lie  buried  within  the  precincts  of  its  simple, 
unpretending  church.  The  village  is  delightfully 
situate  on  high  ground,  with  extensive  views  over 
the  country  on  all  sides.  Nothhig  can  be  more  agree- 
able to  look  upon  than  the  cottages  and  farm-houses 
of  Steeple  Claydon.  A  few  flaring  flowers  ornament 
most  of  them  in  front,  while  abundance  of  vegetable 
produce  lies  behind.  Everything  denotes  the  pre- 
siding  influence   of   a   considerate    "squire"    and  a 


AN   ENGLISH   RAMBLE.  263 

benevolent  parson.  On  the  western  declivity  of  the 
liill  I  found  a  school-house  of  elegant  desio-n,  rebuilt 
on  the  site  of  the  old  school,  for  the  reception  of  the 
infant  children  of  the  neighbourhood,  by  Sir  Harry 
Yerney.  With  that  reverence  for  bygone  generous 
deeds  which  characterizes  all  cultivated  minds.  Sir 
Harry  has  caused  the  memor}'  of  the  original  founder 
to  be  preserved ;  the  escutcheon  of  a  Chaloner,  carved 
in  stone,  being  still  in  its  place  over  the  porch,  the 
only  part  of  the  original  building  which  remains.  On 
the  brow  of  the  hill  is  a  "  vallum,"  of  considerable 
depth  and  width,  with  a  mound,  where  Oliver  Crom- 
well, it  is  credibly  affirmed,  encamped  during  his 
campaign  against  the  King's  forces  in  this  county. 
Sir  Harry  Verney  has  placed  a  brass  inscription  in  a 
wall  hard  by,  in  order  to  keep  alive  the  tradition 
concerning  this  interesting  incident.  In  the  chancel 
of  the  church  at  Steeple  Claydon  is  a  mural  tablet  to 
the  memory  of  an  Edward  Chaloner,  one  of  whose 
ancestors*  the  tablet  records  as  having  been  knighted 
by  the  Protector  of  King  Edward  the  Sixth,  and  by 
Queen  Elizabeth  sent  ambassador  to  the  Emperor 
Eerdinand  and  to  Philip  the  Second  King  of  Spain. 

Quitting  this  pleasant  spot,  not  without  regret,  I 
descended  into  the  plain,  and,  by  a  sequestered  track 
of  a  purely  agricultural  character,  passed  through  the 
villages  of  Edgcott  and  Grendon-Underwood  (the 
latter  boasting  a  handsome  and  picturesque  church), 
and,  traversing  for  a  short  space  the  "  Akeman  way," 
one  of  the  early  Saxon  highways,  I  came  to  Ludger- 
shall,  having  a  most  primitive-looking  parsonage- 
house,  seated  on  an  eminence;  thence,  through   pas- 

*  Sir  Thomas  Chaloner. 


264  AN   ENGLISH    EAMBLE. 

ture-fiekls  and  enclosures,  to  Brill — a  small  town 
somewhat  singularly  placed,  on  the  summit  of  a  lofty 
ridge  some  300  feet  or  more  above  the  level  of  the 
surrounding  country. 

Tliis  place  was  formerly  the  centre  of  a  district 
called  Birnwode  forest,  resorted  to  by  several  of  our 
Plantagenet  Kings  for  the  purpose  of  hunting.  King 
John,  Henry  tlie  Second,  and  Edward  the  Third, 
spent  much  time  here.  From  several  points  in  the 
immediate  vicinity  of  the  church,  most  delightful  and 
commanding  views  are  obtained.  The  wooded  resi- 
dence and  park  of  the  Marquis  of  Chandos,  Wotton 
House,  lies  immediately  under  the  ridge,  to  the 
North ;  whilst  beyond  it  stretch  away  for  many  miles, 
the  productive  farms  and  comfortable  shaded  home- 
steads of  this  rich  and  favoured  county.  But  little 
remains  of  the  once  extensive  forest  by  which  this 
district  was  formerly  covered.  A  grove  of  lofty  trees, 
close  to  the  town,  appears  to  be  tlie  sole  remnant  of 
its  departed  glory. 

Early  on  the  morrow  I  descended  from  my 
"  monticule,"  on  the  South-Avest  side,  bent  upon 
finding  the  way  to  the  site  of  an  edifice  of  ancient 
date,  historically  interesting  by  its  having  stood  a 
siege  of  a  fortnight's  duration,  by  the  Parliament 
forces  under  General  Fairflxx,  in  1645;  Boarstall 
House,  at  tliat  time  belonging  to  Lady  Dynham, 
being  successfully  defended  by  Sir  William  Campion. 
A  pleasant  drive  of  some  three  miles  brought  me  to 
the  spot,  now  a  rural  solitude,  once  animated  with 
active  and  opulent  feudal  existence.  The  Gate 
House,  with  its  four  massive  towers,  yet  stands,  and 
in  its  pristine  form,  only  shorn  of  its  portcullis  and 


AN   ENGLISH    RAMBLE.  265 

drawbridge;  a  striking  picturesque  monument  of 
mediaeval  taste.  It  is  confidently  affirmed  to  have 
been  erected  in  the  reign  of  Edward  the  First,  about 
the  year  1324;  John  de  Handlo,  the  lord  of  the 
domain,  having  obtained  licence  from  the  King  to 
"fortify  his  mansion  at  Boarstall,  and  make  a  castle 
of  it" — so  ran  the  edict.*  Three  sides  of  the  deep 
moat  are  yet  open,  and  full  of  water;  and  one  solitary 
secular  tree  (an  elm)  stands  within  its  enclosure, 
sole  survivor  of  many  hundred  oaks  and  elms  which, 
no  longer  ago  than  the  year  1810,  surrounded  this 
ancient  feudal  castle. 

The  woman  who  now  resides  in  the  Gate  House 
recounted  to  me  the  following  particulars.  "  My 
grandmother,"  said  she,  "  lived  and  died  here.  She 
died  about  thirty  years  ago,  when  she  was  eighty- 
seven.  I  remember  her  very  well,  and  have  often 
heard  her  tell  about  the  old  house,  and  about  the 
family  of  Aubrey.  The  '  great  house,'  she  said,  stood 
upon  a  deal  of  ground,  and  had  prim  gardens,  and 
trees  set  in  rows,  with  clipped  hedges;  and  there  were 
very  noble  rooms  in  the  mansion.  The  late  Sir 
Thomas  Aubrey  inherited  a  large  part  of  Sir  John 
Aubrey's  estates.  He  died,  like  his  uncle,  at  a  great 
age.  My  grandmother  remembered  the  forest  being 
so  thick  all  round  Boarstall  that  you  could  not  see  the 
house  until  you  came  quite  close  upon  it.  Sir  John 
Aubrey  had,  by  his  first  wife,  a  son,  who  about  the  age 
of  six  or  seven  years  came   to  an  untimely  death- 

•  [The  property  came,  by  inheritance,  to  the  family  of  Aubrey,  about 
one  hundred  and  fifty  years  since ;  the  hist  male  descendant  of  which, 
Sir  Thomas  Aubrey,  dying  not  more  than  a  year  ago,  without  children, 
the  estates  devolved  upon  a  lady  (married  to  Mr.  Eicketts),  the  next 
in  blood,  residing  at  Dorton  House.] 


266  AN    ENGLISH    KAMBLE. 

His  nurse  having  giving  the  child  a  little  medicine, 
wished  that  he  should  afterwards  take  some  gruel. 
To  make  this  gruel,  she  used  some  oatmeal  which  she 
found  in  one  of  the  cupboards  in  the  Gate  House, 
where  the  kitchen  was  situate.  It  unfortunately 
turned  out  that  this  oatmeal  had  had  arsenic  mixed 
with  it.  The  child  at  first  refused  to  swallow 
the  gruel,  saying  it  was  nasty ;  on  wliicli  the  nurse 
added  some  sugar,  and  thus  the  child  was  induced  to 
eat  it  up.  The  poor  boy  died  within  three  hours  of 
this  fatal  mistake  being  committed.  My  grandmother 
saw  the  child  when  it  was  dying :  it  was  a  fine  little 
boy,  and  the  nurse  had  like  to  have  gone  out  of  her 
mind  with  grief.  Lady  Aubrey,  the  boy's  mother, 
took  on  sadly,  and  after  a  few  months  died  of  a 
broken  heart.  The  widower,  anxious  for  an  heir, 
married,  after  a  while,  another  lady;  but  she  bore 
him  no  child." 

Sir  John  began  to  pull  down  the  great  house  about 
eighty  years  ago,  carting  the  stone  and  other 
materials  away  to  enlarge  Dorton  House  wdthal; 
originally  a  structure  of  the  Tudor  age,  which  it 
took  him  many  years  to  complete.  It  is  situate 
about  a  mile  and  a  half  East  of  Brill,  nearly  at 
the  bottom  of  the  slope,  and  in  the  immediate 
vicinity  of  a  somewhat  remarkable  medicinal 
spring  of  a  strong  chalybeate  quality.  Sir  Thomas 
Aubrey,  on  coming  to  the  property,  somewhere 
about  thirty  years  ago,  set  about  cutting  doAvn  the 
fine  forest  which  surrounded  the  site  of  Boarstall 
House.  There  were  many  trees  of  such  bulk  and 
value  as  to  fetch  the  sum  of  16/.  per  stick.  The 
estimate  made  by  the  inhabitants  was,  that  he  had 


AN   ENGLISH   RAMBLE.  267 

cut  down  over  1500  timber-trees.  As  Sir  Thomas 
Aubrey  did  not  inherit  the  Dorton  estates,  (which 
were  left  to  Mrs.  Ricketts,)  it  was  surmised  that  this 
wholesale  destruction  of  the  Boarstall  timber  was 
prompted  by  an  unworthy  feeling  of  jealousy;  the 
Boarstall  estates  being  destined  to  pass  to  Mrs. 
Ricketts  and  her  heirs,  in  default  of  Sir  Thomas 
leaving  a  son. 

After  making  a  leisurely  inspection  of  this  inte- 
resting relic  of  the  fourteenth  century,  I  returned 
to  Brill;  whence,  passing  by  the  spa  or  mineral 
spring  mentioned  above,  and  close  to  Dorton  House, 
I  reascended  by  a  steep  path  to  the  pleasant  village 
of  Chilton.  It  would  be  diificult  to  point  out  a  more 
charming  drive.  On  each  side  of  the  ridge  an  exten- 
sive view  is  enjoyed ;  whilst  on  gently  descending  into 
the  village,  the  road  is  overarched  by  umbrageous 
trees,  and  the  ancient  manor-house  and  handsome 
church,  in  close  proximity,  are  shaded  by  a  grove  of 
magnificent  elms. 

After  leavins:  Chilton,  the  road  sinks  down  into 
the  valley  of  the  Thames ;  and,  passing  through  the 
town  of  Thame,  we  followed  a  dull  level  line  of 
country  to  Prince's  Risborough,  a  neat  little  town 
nestled  at  the  base  of  the  Chiltern  range.  Ourselves 
and  horse  standing  in  great  need  of  sustentation,  we 
alighted  at  what  was  dignified  by  the  title  of  the 
"head  inn"  of  the  place;  and,  after  seeing  the  good 
horse  cared  for,  opened  the  subject  of  dinner  with  the 
landlady.  Traveller — "What  have  you  got  in  the 
house,  mistress  ?"  Landlady — "  Mighty  little,  I'm 
afeard."  Traveller — "  AVell,  then,  you'd  better  send 
out  and  get  us  some  mutton-chops,  or  something." 


268  AN   ENGLISH   RAMBLE. 

Landlady — "  Oh !  that  won't  be  no  use,  for  there 
ain't  such  a  thing  in  the  town."  Traveller — "  How 
do  you  know  that?"  Landlady — '"Cos  we've  been 
and  tried  for  some  other  travellers;  and  there's  ne'er 
a  butcher  have  got  a  scrap  of  meat.  Ye  see,  to- 
morrow's our  market-day ;  so  they  wont  kill  till  the 
over-night."  Traveller — "  Well,  then,  bring  out  the 
bread  and  cheese;  you've  got  tliat^  I  suppose  ?" 
Landlady — "  Ay,  ay,  we  got  that,  sure  enough  !"* 

Towards  six  o'clock,  we  jogged  on ;  passing  by  the 
pretty  little  village  of  Bradenham,  under  the  hill  on 
which  the  church  of  West  Wycombe,  presenting  a 
striking  object,  is  perched.  At  its  base  stands  the 
noble  mansion  and  richly-timbered  grounds  of  Sir 
Francis  Dashwood  King,  called  West  Wycombe  Park ; 
than  which,  few  more  attractive  and  interesting  seats 
can  be  cited.  The  road  hence,  to  High  or  Chipping 
Wycombe,  lay  through  a  valley  watered  by  a  stream, 
and  ornamented  by  the  wood-crowned  heights  of 
AVycombe  Abbey,  forming  a  delightful  landscape, 
gilded  by  the  departing  rays  of  a  gorgeous  sunset. 

Here  ends  my  humble  "itinerar3^"  May  it  interest 
some  of  your  readers  who  still  cherish  a  love  of  old 
English  tradition,  haunts,  and  dwellings;  albeit  my 
track  led  neither  through  romantic  nor  magnificent 
scenery. 

*  I  repeat  this  prosaic  dialogue,  to  show  that  frugal  habits  are  slill 
in  fashion  among  the  rural  population  of  England. 


POETICAL    PIECES. 


OF    JOHN    HAMPDEN. 

OBIT.   1643, 


There  appeared  in  the  Morning  Chronicle  newspaper, 
about  the  month  of  August,  1828,  an  account  of 
certain  proceedings  at  Great  Hampden,  Bucks,  in 
which  the  chief  actors  were,  the  late  Lord  Nugent, 
and  tlie  parson  of  the  parish,  named  (I  think)  Lovett, 
or  Lovel.  The  account  purported  to  be  furnished  by 
Lord  Nugent  himself;  but  many  years  afterwards, 
his  lordship,  becoming  in  some  sort  ashamed  of  the 
part  he  had  borne  in  the  affair,  thought  fit  (as  I  have 
been  informed)  to  deny  his  participation  therein.  As 
an  impartial  witness,  I  think  it  right  to  prefix  to  the 
lines  below  a  short  narrative  of  what  came  under  my 
knowledge  in  reference  to  this  transaction,  about  two 
years  after  its  occurrence. 

Feeling  a  deep  interest  in  the  personal  history  and 
character  of  John  Hampden,  my  husband  and  I  made 
a  journey  to  the  place  where  he  had  lived  as  an 
opulent  country  gentleman,  and  where  his  remains 
were  known  to  lie ;  I  may  not  say  to  repose^  since  they 
had  been  disturbed  by  the  irreverent  curiosity  of 
the  parties  already  named. 

"Whilst  halting  at  a  retired  alehouse,  on  a  common 
about  a  mile  distant  from  Great  Hampden  house,  to 
refresh  our  horses,  I  entered  into  conversation  with 
the  woman  who  kept  it.    "Were  you  living  here  (I 


272  POETICAL   riECES. 

asked)  when  Lord  Nugent  and  his  friends  had  Mr. 
John  Hampden  digged  up  out  of  his  grave  ?" 

"Yes,  sure;  I  were  up  at  the  church  early  next 
morning,  and  seed  the  poor  gentleman  in  his  coffin. 
He  were  stayed  up  with  a  shovel,  set  against  his  Lack, 
and  he  were  left  so  all  night." 

"What  colour  was  his  hair?  did  you  look  well 
at  it?" 

"  Yes ;  it  were  a  kind  of  a  reddy -brown  colour. 
But  there,  I  can  show  you  some  on  it,  if  so  be  as  you 
cares  about  him." 

"  Why,  certainly ;  I  should  be  very  pleased  to  do 
so.     But  how  came  you  to  possess  any?" 

"  Because  I  cut  some  oif  his  head  with  my 
scithers,  and  I've  got  it  now,  up-stairs." 

"  Go  and  fetch  it  me,  then." 

The  good  woman  went,  and  in  a  few  minutes 
brought  me  a  shabby  piece  of  paper,  containing  a 
small  quantity  of  brown  hair.  I  asked  her  wliat 
induced  her  to  cut  it  from  Mr.  Hampden's  head?  She 
replied  that  she  had  been  told  he  was  a  very  great 
man  once  upon  a  time,  and  so  she  thought  it  would 
be  "  a  remembrance  of  a  famous  gentleman."  What 
made  him  such,  she  knew  not,  she  said. 

I  bore  away  the  precious  relic,  giving  the  woman 
what  I  thought  sufficient  in  exchange.  Pursuing  our 
w\ay  to  the  church,  situate  almost  at  the  door  of  the 
ancient  mansion  within  the  walls  of  v/hich  the  fore- 
most members  of  the  "  party  of  resistance"  w^ere  wont, 
in  1643,  to  hold  their  councils,  we  soon  succeeded  in 
meeting  with  the  parish  sexton,  who  was  fetched  from 
his  cottage,  a  short  mile  from  thence. 

After  spending  some  time  in  the  church,  looking  at 


JOHN   HAMPDEN.  273 

the  monuments  of  the  Hampdens,  I  asked  the  sexton 
wliether  he  had  been  concerned  in  the  disinterment 
of  Mr.  John  Hampden's  body,  in  1828. 

"  I  was,"  answered  he  ;  "  and  I  do  not  think  I  ever 
did  anything  in  all  my  life  of  which  I  so  much 
repented  afterwards." 

"Why  did  you  take  part  in  the  business?"  I 
inquired. 

"  Well,  you  see,  our  parson  was  my  master,  like, 
and  he  told  me  to  take  up  the  paving  and  go  down 
into  the  vault,  and  so  I  did  as  I  was  ordered,  with- 
out thinking;  and  me  and  another  man  fetched  up 
two  or  three  coffins  for  Lord  Nugent  and  the  t'other 
gentlemen  to  examine." 

"And  you  found  the  coffin  at  last,  wherein  John 
Hampden  lay,  did  you?" 

"  Yes." 

They  knew  it  to  be  him,  the  sexton  said,  by  the 
fact  of  the  right  hand  being  severed  from  the  arm, 
near  the  wrist.  It  lay  by  the  side  of  the  body,  and 
was  wrapped  in  cerecloth,  apart  from  the  arm.  The 
body  had  also  cerecloth  round  it,  but  the  cloth  had 
decayed  a  good  deal.  The  face  was  still  partly  pre- 
served by  the  embalming  matter,  and  a  small  brown 
moustache  could  be  perceived  on  the  upper  lip.  The 
body  was  that  of  a  well-built  man  of  about  five 
feet  eight  or  nine  inches  in  height ;  not  that  of  a  tall 
man. 

When  the  curiosity  of  Lord  Nugent  had  been  so 
far  gratified  as  that  the  actual  remains  of  our  dis- 
tinguished patriot  were  exposed  to  his  gaze,  he  pro- 
ceeded to  take  still  greater  liberties  with  this  illus- 
trious man's  bones.      The    sexton  was  directed   to 

T 


274  POETICAL   PIECES. 

take  his  knife  and  detacli  the  arm  at  the  shoulder- 
joint,  in  order  that  the  party  might  carry  it  away  to 
the  mansion  to  examine  into  the  character  of  tlie 
fracture,  with  a  view  to  ascertain  whether  the  muti- 
lation had  been  caused  by  a  pistol-bullet,  or  whether 
the  hand  had  been  amputated  by  the  surgeon.  It 
being  well  known  that  Hampden's  death  was  occa- 
sioned by  this  wound,  received  on  Chalgrave  -field, 
the  question  was,  had  he  died  of  mortification  con- 
sequent on  the  injury,  or  had  the  hand  been  removed, 
and  some  other  mortal  process  such  as  fever,  or 
perhaps  lockjaw,  supervened  ? 

1  pass  over  the  apologetic  explanations  Avhich,  as  I 
perfectly  recollect,  accompanied  Lord  Nugent's  recital 
of  the  transaction.  The  question  which  his  Lord- 
ship appeared  so  anxious  to  clear  up,  seems  to  me  at 
this  date,  as  it  seemed  to  me  in  1828,  wholly  without 
historical  interest  in  itself,  and  as  affording  not  the 
slightest  excuse  for  invading,  after  a  lapse  of  near 
two  centuries,  the  sanctity  of  the  tomb.  So  thought, 
indeed,  on  reflection,  the  humble  instrument  of  the 
sacrilege. 

He  proceeded  to  execute  the  order  to  separate  the 
arm  from  the  trunk  (not  Avithout  difficulty,  he  said), 
and  it  w^as  then  taken  to  the  house,  there  to  be  more 
closely  inspected.  But  as  the  day  Avas  closing  in 
before  these  sad  operations  had  been  completed,  there 
remained  not  light  enough  whereby  to  replace  the 
h.and  in  the  coffin  and  restore  this  to  its  original 
position  beneath. 

Accordingly,  the  body  (of  which  the  frame  still 
held  together,  sustained  as  it  was  by  the  cerecloth) 
was  left  in  the  coffin,  on  the  floor  of  the  chancel  of 


JOHN    HAMPDEN.  275 

the  church,  propped  up  in  a  sitting  posture,  by  means 
of  the  sexton's  shovel;  the  doors  were  locked,  and  all 
retired  to  their  homes  for  the  night. 

As  the  sexton  walked  back  over  the  fields  to  his 
cottage  his  feelings  were  painfully  awakened  to  a 
consciousness  that  he  had  done  disrespect  to  a  great 
man  of  yore.  "  I  was  so  grieved  with  myself,"  said 
this  simple-hearted  rustic,  "  that  I  took  and  heaved 
away  the  clasp-knife  as  done  it  among  a  lot  of  furze 
bushes,  so  as  I  might  never  set  eyes  on  the  knife 
more." 

At  early  dawn  on  the  morrow,  the  parish  clerk  and 
the  sexton  repaired  to  the  church,  into  which,  so 
soon  as  the  doors  were  unfastened,  there  stole  quietly 
a  few  of  the  poor  working  folk  who  lived  near,  chiefly 
women,  the  men  being  understood  to  go  to  work  by 
six  o'clock.  They  came  to  obtain  a  look  at  the  un- 
usual spectacle  of  an  exhumed  corpse,  with  a  sort  of 
vague  curiosit}^,  prompted  by  the  instinct  Avhich 
even  in  ignorant  minds  invests  antiquity  with  a 
reverent  interest. 

I  inquired  of  the  sexton  whether  he  had  observed 
any  of  the  women  cutting  the  hair  off  the  head  of 
the  body  on  the  morning  in  question.  "  Yes,"  he 
answered,  "  there  were  one  or  two  whom  I  saw  doing 
so."  I  told  him  I  had  obtained  a  small  parcel  of 
hair  from  the  woman  at  the  roadside  alehouse. 
"Did  he  believe  A^r  to  be  one  of  those?"  "  Yer}^ 
likely,"  said  the  sexton ;  "  she  was  here,  I  do  re- 
member. But  do  you  set  any  store  by  the  hair, 
madam?  because  if  you  do,  I  can  let  you  have  some 
which  I  myself  cut  off  Mr.  Hampden's  head  that  same 
morning." 

T  2 


276  POETICAL   PIECES. 

"  I  wish  you  would  go  and  bring  it  me,"  I  ex- 
claimed. Accordingl}',  as  we  had  ended  our  visit  to 
the  church,  the  man  returned  to  his  dwelling,  and,  in 
half-an-hour,  brought  me  back  a  piece  of  paper  con- 
taining a  portion  of  hair.  On  comparing  it  with  that 
which  the  good  woman  had  previously  given  me  I 
found  it  exactly  similar  in  ever^^  point. 

Persuaded  of  the  identity  of  my  relics,  I  after- 
wards caused  locks  of  this  hair  to  be  inserted  into 
three  or  four  gold  rings,  and  pins,  of  which  I  gave 
away  several  to  persons  who  shared  my  interest  in 
the  history  of  John  Hampden,  and  whom  I  myself 
esteemed  and  admired.  Lady  Theresa  Lewis  was  of 
this  number,  and  the  gift  was  accompanied  by  the 
lines  which  follow.  I  need  hardly  remind  the  reader 
that  her  ladyship  had  published  a  work  entitled, 
''''Lives  of  the  Contemporaries  of  Lord  Clarendon^^ 
wherein  the  events  of  the  civil  war,  and  the  conduct 
of  the  leading  men  on  both  sides,  are  passed  in  review 
with  a  feeling  and  conscientious  style  of  treatment. 


JOHN  HAMPDEN.  277 


TO  LADY  THERESA  LEWIS. 

WITH  A  RING, 
IN  WHICH  WAS  ENCLOSED  A  PORTION  OF  JOHN  HAMPDEN'S  HAIE. 


Lady  !  keep  and  wear  this  ring, 
Suggestive  of  a  cherished  name  ; 

Resistance  to  a  tyrant  king, 
Its  passport  to  enduring  fame. 

For  relic  of  those  stirring  days 

No  fitter  shrine  than  thy  fair  hand, 

Which  late  hath  shed  historic  rays 
On  heroes  of  our  native  land. 

What  though  thy  fondest  eulogies 
Descend  on  loyal  Falkland's  head. 

With  no  scant  measure  canst  thou  praise 
Th'  opposing  band,  by  Hampden  led. 

'Tis  sweet  to  wander  through  the  maze 
With  guide  deserving  of  our  trust ; 

With  thee  to  learn,  from  bygone  days. 
That  first  of  lessons — to  be  just. 

For  thou  hast  held  the  lamp  before 
A  page  of  England's  chivalry ; 

Retouched  the  hues  of  fading  lore, 
And  brightened  each  sad  memory. 

Then  speed  the  work — a  task  of  love, 
To  which  thy  heart  inspired  thy  pen, 

And  wake  the  names  of  those  who  strove 
In  holy  cause,  to  live  again  ! 


278  POETICAL   PIECES. 


FELIX  MENDELSSOHN. 

OBIT.  NOV.  1847. 

Felix  Mendelssohn  Bartiioldy  paid  us  a  visit  at 
our  residence  adjoining  "  Burnham  Beeches,"  in  the 
summer  of  1847.  Some  of  his  intimate  friends  were 
also  our  guests,  and  he  appeared  to  enjoy  this  brief 
lioliday  with  ahnost  youthful  relish.  After  wander- 
ing about,  one  day,  in  the  old  forest-like  glades  till  he 
was  well  nigh  tired  with  walking,  he  laid  himself 
down  on  a  green  mossy  bank,  and  listened  to  the 
sighing  of  the  breeze  overhead,  blending  itself  with 
the  many  small  sounds  incident  to  woodland  scenery, 
till  he  seemed  absorbed  in  thought.  After  some 
little  time  passed  in  silence,  he  said,  "  I  think  I 
could  set  all  this  to  music !" 

In  memory  of  this  illustrious  man's  visit,  I  caused 
a  stone  to  be  placed  on  the  spot,  and  planted  flowers 
and  slnaibs  around :  even  protecting  the  stone  by  an 
iron  railing.  In  vain !  the  boys  of  the  hamlet,  with 
a  horror  of  vacuity  which  seems  to  be  common  to 
both  man  and  animal,  amused  themselves  on  Sundays, 
for  want  of  better  pastime,  with  de lacing  the  lines  on 
the  stone,*  and  breaking  off  the  willow  and  cypress 
twigs.  I  could  not  make  ^lead  against  such  enemies, 
and  after  a  year  or  two  removed  my  luunble  memorial 
in  despair. 

*  Cousistiug  of  the  tliird,  foiirtli,  autl  fifth  stanzas. 


MENDELSSOHN.  279 

STANZAS  ON  FELIX  MENDELSSOHN 

WEITTEJf  Df  BUEXHAM  BEECHES.    JAN.  1S43. 

These  ancient  groves  and  solitudes  among 

Lately  a  bright  celestial  Being  strayed  ; 
A  brief  retreat  from  out  the  admiring  throng 

He  sought  and  found  beneath  their  leafy  shade. 

With  careless  steps  he  ranged  the  forest's  maze  ; 

Then,  resting  here  a  space,  his  raptured  eye 
He  bent  upon  the  scene  with  thoughtful  gaze, 

And  bathed  his  spirit  in  its  poetry. 

To  mark  the  cherished  spot  which  once  he  pressed, 
An  humble  mourner's  hand  hath  raised  a  stone ; 

For  He  hath  sunk  to  an  eternal  rest. 

Untimely  parted  from  his  young  renown, 

Ere  his  rich  gifts  and  inspirations  bore 
Their  perfect  fruit  in  his  creative  mind  ; 

Ere  swelled  to  flood,  in  life's  meridian  hour. 
The  Master's  art  to  bless  and  charm  mankind. 

He  stood  confessed  a  genius — yet  he  scorned 

An  Idol's  tempting  privilege  to  claim  ; 
The  virtues  of  the  Man  his  course  adorned. 

And  added  lustre  to  his  lyric  fame. 

Ah  !  Mendelssohn,  hadst  thou  but  oftener  sought 
Calm  Nature's  presence — hadst  thou  oftener  fled 

The  incense-offering  crowd,  and  idly  caught 
The  summer  breeze  to  fan  thy  fevered  head — 

Haply,  e'en  now,  within  its  earthly  sphere 
Had  beamed  the  radiance  of  thy  soul  divine  ; 

And  spared  had  been  the  unavailing  tear, 

Which  from  a  thousand  eyehds  fails,  with  mine. 


280  POETICAL   PIECES. 


LINES  TO  JENNY  LIND  GOLDSCHMIDT. 

WITH  A  MEDALLION  POETEAIT  OP  THORWALDSEN. 

Behold  the  impress  of  a  noble  mind  ! 
Genius  and  native  worth  in  thee  combined, 
Thorwaldsen  !  master  of  creative  art, 
A  name  embalmed  in  Scandinavia's  heart. 
I  place  thine  image  in  a  "  sister's"  hand. 
For  "art"  makes  brotherhood  in  every  land. 

Great  powers  both  thou  and  she  have  wielded  here  j 
And  both  have  aimed,  in  their  peculiar  sphere, 
To  elevate  the  soul,  and  lift  the  eyes 
Of  mortals  to  a  Avorld  beyond  the  skies. 
Well  may  thy  lineaments  her  home  adorn. 
Who,  like  thyself,  to  high  distinction  borne. 
Now  tastes  the  sweets  of  freedom  and  of  rest. 
By  love,  and  by  approving  conscience  blest ! 

May,  1859. 


POETICAL  PIECES.  281 


LINES   SUGGESTED  BY  MORE  THAN   ONE 
RECENT  DOMESTIC  HISTORY. 

(written  before  the  divorce  court  had  been  established.) 

Full  many  a  sorrowful  and  tragic  tale 

Enfolded  lies  beneath  the  semblance  frail 

Of  wedded  harmony  and  calm  content ! 

How  oft  a  heart  in  aching  bosom  jjent, 

And  careworn  thoughts,  are  borne  abroad  unseen, 

Veiled  in  the  aspect  of  a  cheerful  mien, 

By  the  sad  mourner  of  a  home  unblest, 

A  faith  unhonoured,  and  a  life  opprest ! 

Nor  man  nor  woman  may  escape  the  pain 
Which  lurks  in  undiscerning  Passion's  train. 
To  short-lived  joys,  a  long  regret  succeeds : 
But  whilst  a  lesson's  taught,  the  learner  bleeds. 

Haply  a  pure  and  justly  kindled  flame 

At  Hymen's  shrine  a  happier  lot  may  claim, 

For  those  who,  blest  with  beauty,  health,  and  grace, 

Seek  on  those  gifts  a  crowning  charm  to  place, 

And  crave  a  sanction  on  their  promised  bliss. 

E'en  here  will  steal — in  destiny  like  this, 

That  "bitter  drop,"  which,  mortal  cup  without 

jNIay  never  mixed  be,  and  turn  to  nought 

Their  glorious  inheritance — thence  cursed 

With  inward  canker — of  all  ills  the  worst. 

No  hand  can  minister  to  griefs  like  these. 

Nor  holy  science  bring  the  sufferer  ease. 

A  lengthened  martyrdom  without  rewards, 

Is  all  that  hope  permits,  or  life  affords. 


282  POETICAL   PIECES. 

Man  marvels  over — pitying  as  be  goes — 
Th'  immense  diversity  of  human  woes ; 
Yet,  with  short-sighted  folly,  fails  to  see 
How  large  a  share  of  this  vast  misery 
Is  due  to  man's  own  impious  agency. 

So  taught  the  eloquent  recluse,  Rousseau, 
In  days  not  quite  a  century  ago  ; 
Whilst  in  our  own,  there  liveth  not  a  few, 
Whom  woman's  wrongs  incline  to  think  it  true. 

Ask — may  the  victim  of  a  hasty  vow 
Ne'er  seek  release  nor  remedy  ?     Ah  no  ! 
A  maiden  once  enclosed  in  nuptial  ties. 
Must  wear  her  fetters  till  she  sins  or  dies ; 
And  suffer  as  she  may,  within  these  bounds. 
No  cure  for  sorrows  and  no  balm  for  wounds. 
No  shield  for  her  'gainst  contumely  or  harm  ; 
Law,  that  "  deaf  adder,^'  hearkens  to  no  "  charm," 
If  suppliant  in  o.  female  form  presume 
To  claim  its  aid  against  unequal  doom. 

Yet,  surely,  she  may  Hy  an  unloved  mate. 

And  find  relief  in  undisturbed  retreat  ? 

Not  so — the  law  its  powerless  victim  cites 

To  forced  communion  and  unwilling  rites, 

Which  sting  with  insult ;  whilst  the  loathed  caress 

But  desecrates  the  couch  it  may  not  bless. 

Such  finished  torture  England's  code  can  boast ; 
A  formal  framework,  which,  at  woman's  cost. 
Flings  a  disguise  o'er  ruthless  tyranny. 
And  drugs  men's  conscience  with  a  special  lie. 

Not  the  Red  Indian  on  Missouri's  shore 

His  strength  abuses  by  one  fraction  more 

Than  he  who,  aided  by  judicial  might, 

Counts  as  a  feather  in  the  balance,  right. 

And  justice,  sighs,  tears,  prayers, — nay,  all  beside 

When  weighed  against  his  lusts,  his  will,  or  pride. 


POETICAL   PIECES.  283 

Whilst  with  a  ^Yhiae,  the  felon  is  set  free, 
And  Justice  shrinks  from  her  own  stern  decree, 
This,  our  belauded  humanizing  age, 
Leaves  Avoman  prisoned  in  her  "  legal"  cage  : 
Withholds  her  heritage,  and  ties  her  hand, 
And  bids  her  live  a  cypher  in  the  land — 
A  serf  in  all  but  mind,  yet  mocked  with  show 
Of  gilded  chains — poor  solace  to  her  woe. 

Say  not  "  Opinion's"  force  protection  sheds 

Around  the  weaker  forais,  and  weaker  heads 

Of  women — doth  not  "  Law"  itself  proclaim 

Their  nullity  ?     Compelling  them  to  frame 

A  fiction  and  contrivance,  would  they  hold 

A  portion  only  of  their  rightful  gold. 

Nay,  even  this  resource  no  more  avails, 

If,  after  marriage.  Fortune's  favouring  gales 

Should  waft  them  riches  ;  for  behold  !  the  man 

Seizes  the  treasure,  as  "  Law"  says  he  can. 

Nor  may  a  woman's  industry  obtain 

Its  honourable  guerdon — for  again. 

Her  husband  claims  the  product  as  his  own  : 

And  we  look  on,  and  ask  "  Can  nought  be  done  ?" 

Thus,  since  the  State  directs  that  woman's  fate 
Should  hang  upon  the  "  fiat"  of  her  mate, 
Slight  hope  that  private  feeling  will  assume 
A  juster  tone  or  mitigate  her  doom. 
Bereft  of  rights,  she  learns  to  wear  her  chain  ; 
And  seeks,  by  art,  the  mastery  to  gain. 
Unworthy  study,  which  a  juster  code 
Might  turn  aside,  or  prompt  to  nobler  good. 

The  want  of  will  in  man — not  want  of  power, 

Defers  redemption  to  a  distant  hour. 

Far  distant  !  for  Avhat  eye  hath  seen  the  strong 

Relieve  the  weak  because  he  did  thera  wrong  ? 

And,  sad  to  say,  the  sex  itself  ne'er  yet. 

Its  degradation  cared  to  terminate  : 


284  Til  10    LAW    OF    MARRIAGE. 

Else  had  they,  long  since,  risen  in  the  scale 
Of  social  honour  and  domestic  weal. 
With  urgent  pleadings,  couched  in  modest  words, 
Would  wives  besiege  the  conscience  of  their  lords, 
Nor  "  bate  one  jot"  till  these  revised  the  laws, 
A  sure  success  might  follow  for  their  cause. 
And,  once  on  fairer  ground,  be  theirs  to  prove 
How  well  a  generous  confidence  can  move 
Their  souls  to  virtue,  and  their  hearts  to  love  ! 

November,  1855. 


Since  the  above  lines  were  composed,  the  Legislature 
have  instituted  a  Court  of  Divorce.  A  woman  whose 
husband  treats  her  with  cruelty,  or  can  be  proved  to 
have  committed  adultery,  is  permitted  to  sue  for 
either  a  legal  separation  or  a  divorce. 

It  is  likewise  competent  to  a  woman  to  go  before 
a  magistrate  and  swear  that  her  husband  has  de- 
serted her  for  a  given  period,  when  the  magistrate 
is  empowered  to  grant  the  woman  a  warrant,  to 
secure  to  her  the  undisturbed  possession  of  her  own 
earnino's. 

These  two  changes  in  the  state  of  the  law  are  re- 
garded as  valuable  concessions  to  the  interests  of 
woman.  But  it  requires  no  great  discrimination  to 
perceive  that  the  amount  of  hardship  inflicted  by  the 
law  of  marriage  upon  the  weaker  sex,  is  reduced  but 
by  a  small  amount  under  the  change  indicated. 

In  the  first  place,  a  woman  who  sues  for  a  divorce 
must  do  so  at  her  own  expense.  Now  a  married 
woman  is  never  permitted  to  touch  her  own  money, 
even   if  she  has  any — the  man  takes  it  all.     If  her 


THE   LAW   OF   MARRIAGE.  285 

fortune  is  in  trust,  the  trustees  ahva3^s  pay  the  annual 
interest  to  the  husband.  I  would  ask  those  best 
acquainted  with  such  matters,  whether  a  trustee  is 
likely  to  supply  monies  to  the  wife  for  the  purpose  of 
suinsr  for  a  divorce  from  her  husband? 

I  need  not  expatiate  on  the  repugnance  which  a 
well-conditioned  woman  entertains  to  going  before  a 
tribunal  at  all — especially  in  the  character  of  an 
injured  wife.  We  know  that  women  put  up  with  a 
large  measure  of  harsh  usage  before  they  can  bring 
themselves  to  appeal  to  the  aid  of  law.  Yet  having, 
for  cogent  reasons,  decided  on  doing  so,  where  is  the 
money  to  come  from?  and  the  least  sum  required  is, 
I  have  been  informed,  one  hundred  pounds. 

Whilst  I  admit  the  institution  of  a  Court  of  Divorce 
to  be  a  step  towards  a  mitigation  of  the  injustice 
under  which  women  labour  in  this  country,  I  am 
deeply  persuaded  of  the  necessity  to  superadd  another 
boon,  in  order  to  render  the  first  at  all  effectual.  I 
mean  that  the  woman  should  possess  absolute  control 
over  her  own  property,  married  or  single.  Years  of 
attentive  observation  and  reflection  have  impressed 
me  with  the  belief  that  this  would  afford  to  women 
the  simplest  as  well  as  the  most  suitable  resource 
against  the  ill-treatment  of  a  husband.  In  spite  of 
the  extensively  held  dogma,  that  a  woman  ought  not 
to  be  entrusted  with  the  control  over  her  own  pro- 
perty, because  she  would  of  a  surety  allow  her  husband 
to  get  it  from  her,  I  venture  to  affirm  that,  having 
such  control  she  would  be  better  off  than  she  now  is, 
whether  under  the  trustee  system,  or  under  the  condi- 
tion of  a  wife  without  trustees. 

All  that  the  "  Trust"  does  is  to  prevent  the  husband 


28G  THE    LAW    OF    MARRIAGE. 

from  wasting  away  his  Avife's  capital^  after  wasting 
away  his  own ;  at  least  the  portion  "  under  trust,"  for 
any  otlier  portion  he  is  free  to  waste  away.  But 
observe,  he  continues  to  receive  the  income  of  it,  and 
to  spend  it  as  he  thinks  fit ;  the  wife  has  no  more 
control  over  her  own  than  she  had  over  his  money 
whilst  any  remained.  She  has  the  satisfaction,  if  such 
it  ])e,  of  maintaining  him,  but  he  has  the  arrangement 
of  the  expenditure,  and  we  know  what  that  comes  to 
in  such  cases. 

The  trustee  system  is,  in  fact,  a  contrivance  for 
keeping  a  woman  in  a  species  of  tutelage,  under  the 
pretext  of  protecting  her  interests.  But  against 
whom  ?  Why,  against  the  individual  to  whom  you 
confide  the  woman's  happiness,  honour,  and  person 
for  life.  He  is  conceived  to  be  fit  for  such  a  trust,  or 
you  would  not  place  your  daughter  in  his  hands; 
nevertheless,  you  put  her  fortune  out  of  his  reach, 
lest  he  should  strip  her  of  it !  You  will  reply  that 
circumstances  may  hereafter  arise  in  which,  "  being 
tempted  of  the  devil,"  the  best  of  husbands  will  try  to 
coax  or  coerce  his  wife  into  giving  over  to  him  her 
property,  and  she  may  be  beggared  thereby.  To  this 
I  would  rejoin  that  law  takes  no  cognisance  of  folly 
and  weakness.  If  it  was  not  thought  right  to  inter- 
dict Mr.  Wyndham  from  exercising  absolute  control 
over  his  property,  although  for  foolish,  vicious,  and 
discreditable  purposes,  neither  ought  the  law  to 
prevent  a  woman  from  committing  the  folly  of  bring- 
ing herself  to  want  in  order  to  please  a  spendthrift 
husband.  But  if  women  were  brought  up  to  deal  with 
money  matters,  and  to  comprehend  "  business,"  they 
would  acquire  more  solid  habits  of  mind  and  firmness 


THE    LAW    OF   MARRIAGE.  287 

of  character,  and  tlieir  ]:>roperty  would  not  lightly  be 
sacrificed  to  a  misplaced  sentiment.  Furthermore,  it 
is  manifestly  unjust  to  the  woman  to  compel  her  both 
to  maintain  and  to  live  with  an  unworthy  husband, 
whether  she  will  or  no.  She  ought  to  be  free  to 
leave  him,  just  as  he  is  now  free  to  leave  her,  when 
and  for  as  long  a  time  as  it  pleases  him.  As  the  law 
stands,  the  luisband  can  compel  her  to  return  to  him, 
to  cohabit  with  him,  and  probabl}'  to  undergo  the 
bringing  of  more  children  into  the  world,  to  share 
and  diminish  the  pittance  which  remains  to  the 
family. 

In  discussing  the  subject  of  the  rights  of  property 
in  the  married  state,  people  seem  to  me  to  contemplate 
exclusively  the  condition  of  the  wealthy  class.  But  to 
those  who  make  it  their  study  to  observe  the  working 
of  the  law  in  the  middle  ranks  of  society,  it  is  a  familiar 
fact  that,  there,  the  trustee  system  is,  rarely  resorted 
to.  There  are  o-reat  difficulties  in  findins:  trustees  at 
once  willing  and  capable  among  the  middle  class. 
Then  a  settlement  involves  expense;  besides,  the 
wife's  money  commonly  helps  the  pair  to  set  up  in 
some  sort  of  business,  by  which  a  higher  return  is  ob- 
tained ;  indeed  the  woman  would  hardly  be  upheld  in 
refusing  to  let  her  property  be  merged  in  the  common 
undertakings,  and  moreover,  the  husband  is,  in  the 
majority  of  cases,  a  safer  manager  of  it  than  anj^ 
"  trustee  "  of  his  own  rank  in  life.  Provincial  trades- 
men seldom  have  any  dealings  with  funded  property. 
Taking  the  dividends,  too,  is  inconvenient  to  rural 
residents  at  a  distance  from  London.  The  savings  of 
maid-servants,  indeed,  are  sometimes  invested  in  the 
funds,  but  they  usually  find  some  one  belonging  to  a 


288  THE   LAW   OF   MARRIAGE. 

higher  class  in  life  to  manage  their  investment,  and 
receive  their  dividends  for  them,  by  virtue  of  a  power 
of  attorney.  When  such  persons  marry,  they  never 
dream  of  a  "settlement;"  they  know  no  suitable 
person  likely  to  fulfil  the  obligation.  The}''  place 
full  reliance  on  their  future  partner,  and  dislike 
trusting  their  concerns  to  men  who  have  no  particular 
relationship  with  them.  I  have  known  many  ex- 
amples of  humble  marriages,  and  in  none  was  there 
ever  a  settlement  or  a  trustee  provided.  I  am  bound 
to  add  that  in  more  than  one  case  the  savings  of  the 
Avoman  have  melted  away  under  the  mismanagement 
of  the  husband ;  and,  in  some  others,  the  husband  has 
left  the  wife,  to  follow  another  woman,  taking  along 
with  him  all  that  the  former  had  brought  him, 
and  over  which  he  acquired,  by  his  marriage,  entire 
control.  One  case  I  have  now  in  my  mind,  where 
the  man,  after  his  marriage  with  a  maid-servant, 
went  and  sold  out  his  wife's  stock  in  the  Three  per 
Cents  (the  hard  savings  of  twenty  years)  and 
decamped  therewith,  leaving  her  positively  destitute. 
By  the  aid  of  a  friend,  who  supplied  the  passage 
money,  this  poor  woman,  past  sixty  years  of  age, 
was  enabled  to  embark  for  California,  where  a  son 
by  a  former  marriage,  it  was  expected,  would  pro- 
vide for  her.  But  cases  of  married  women  being 
abandoned,  after  being  robbed,  are  exceedingly  com- 
mon; and  the  law  only  protects  them  in  the  en- 
joyment of  their  own  subsequent  earnings,  when  a 
woman  can  swear  tliat  she  has  not  seen  her  hus- 
band within  a  certain  time.  If  he  comes  back  to 
her,  say  once  a  fortnight,  he  may  still  seize  upon  all 
she  has. 


THE    LAW    OY    MARRIAGE.  289 

I  might  expand  these  observations  to  an  infinite 
length,  were  I  to  permit  myself  to  follow  the  ramifi- 
cations of  iDJustice  which  accompany  the  nullity  of 
a  married  woman  in  the  eye  of  the  law.  For 
example,  cases  frequently  occur  in  which  original 
trustees  dying,  no  nev/  ones  are  appointed,  and  the 
husband  continues  to  receive  the  rents  accruing  on 
his  wife's  estate.  I  remember  one,  wherein  wife 
having  died  many  years  prior  to  husband,  and  trus- 
tees having  died  before  her,  leaving  no  cognoscible 
heirs,  the  husband  actually  forgot  all  about  the 
settlement,  and  bequeathed  her  property  by  his  will 
as  a  portion  of  his  own  estate !  It  happened  that 
his  executors  became  aware  of  the  existence  of  the 
settlement,  but  not  until  they  had  distributed  the 
property  as  directed,  and  tlie  family  were  only  saved 
from  the  calamity  of  a  Chancery  suit  by  a  fortunate 
harmony  prevailing  among  the  co-heirs.  I  could 
adduce  numerous  instances  in  which  trustees  have 
either  acted  negligently  or  fraudulent!}^;  but  never 
have  I  heard  of  a  trustee  paying  the  wife's  annual 
income  to  herself  during  her  husband's  lifetime. 
Her  money  is  never  at  her  disposal,  whether  she 
behave  well  or  ill,  is  made  happy  or  miserable. 

As  to  expecting  an  alteration  in  the  law,  so  as  to 
assure  equality  of  rights  to  both  sexes  in  regard  to 
property,  this  must  depend  on  the  spread  of  equitable 
sentiments  in  the  public  mind.  "  AVomen's  rights" 
is  nothing  but  a  phrase.  They  have  none,  except 
such  as  men  choose  to  invest  them  witli;  let  women 
lay  this  well  to  heart.  But  if  I  were  asked  from 
what  sources  a  beneficial  change  may  be  expected  to 
proceed,  I  should  specify  two,  and  these  are : — 

u 


290  THE   LAW    OF    MARRIAGE. 

1.  The  augmenting  impatience  of  women  under 
their  disabilities;  leading  them  to  employ  various 
methods  of  proclaiming  it,  and  of  appealing  to  what 
may  be  termed  the  conscience  of  society ;  setting  forth 
the  painful  inequality  in  which  the  law  places  married 
women,  in  cases  where  property  is  in  question,  and 
also  in  those  where  unworthy  treatment  by  husbands 
is  endured  without  a  chance  of  relief. 

2.  The  sensible  increase  of  the  humane,  benevolent 
tendencies  in  modern  communities.  Every  attentive 
observer  must  have  taken  account  of  this  fact ;  we  are 
become  more  sensitive,  more  accessible  to  uneasy  im- 
pressions when  the  sufferings  or  misfortunes,  nay, 
even  the  discomfort  of  others,  are  brought  under  our 
notice.  Most  persons  feel  an  impulse  to  buy  off  a 
disagreeable  emotion,  be  it  engendered  by  a  mendi- 
cant, by  a  tale  of  woe,  by  a  casual  blow  of  misfortune 
befalling  either  individuals  or  classes,  by  sympathy 
with  some  victim  of  crime,  or  even  by  humane  con- 
siderations as  towards  the  brute  creation.  This  is 
an  age  of  subscriptions,  of  testimonials,  of  endow- 
ments, of  institutions,  of  efforts,  in  short,  for  the  miti- 
gation of  every  variety  of  human  ills. 

Now,  since  we  are  grown  so  tender-hearted,  it  is  no- 
wise surprising  to  find  that  the  swelling  gale  of  sighs 
and  complaints,  proceeding  from  the  weaker  portion  of 
the  community,  has  found  its  way  to  the  public  ear. 
The  "  wrongs  of  women"  have  at  last  awakened  a 
certain  number  of  the  stronger  sex  to  a  sense  of  their 
own  want  of  generosity,  and  it  may  be  regarded  as  a 
feature  in  the  present  stage  of  civilization  in  England, 
that  the  condition  of  women  should  lately  have  taken 
rank  among  the  topics  which  engage  the  serious  atten- 


THE    LAW    OF   MARRIAGE.  291 

tion  of  thinking  persons  of  both  sexes.  The  debate 
which  took  place  in  the  Senate  of  the  London  Univer- 
sity, in  May,  1862,  as  to  the  admission  of  women  to 
the  test  of  examination  for  certificates  in  some  of 
the  departments  of  learning  and  science,  afibrded  a 
proof  that  the  claim  is  not  repudiated  by  that 
eminent  body  as  unbecoming  the  sex.  The  Senate 
divided  on  the  question,  and  ten  members  voted  on 
each  side.  It  was  not  so  much  because  the  women 
were  likely  to  reach  any  distinction  that  they  sought 
this  privilege,  but  because  it  was  calculated  to  pave 
the  way  for  individual  women  of  energy  and  talent  to 
earn  their  living  in  the  educational  career.  And  ten 
members  of  the  Senate  were  of  opinion  that  women 
ought  to  be  allowed  to  share  in  the  advantages  con- 
ferred by  a  certificate. 

It  is  not  unusual  for  men  to  object  to  the  en- 
deavours making  by  women  to  enlarge  the  area 
of  their  industry,  "  because,"  say  they,  "  we  do  not 
wish  to  see  them  mingling  in  the  race  of  competi- 
tion with  men.  They  are  far  more  attractive  and 
interesting  when  they  confine  themselves  to  occupa- 
tions recognised  as  suitable  to  their  sex,  and  do  not 
invade  the  domain  of  intellectual  labour." 

In  reply  to  such  objections,  I  would  simply  observe, 
that  we  have  reached  a  stage  of  society  in  which 
considerations  of  taste  would  seem  to  be  overborne 
by  the  difficulty  of  finding  the  means  of  subsistence. 
Not  to  speak  of  the  numerical  excess  of  females 
over  males,  which  is  a  well  known  element  in  the 
case,  I  would  ask  whether  the  so-called  "feminine 
employments"  are  not  filled  to  repletion  by  our 
women?  and  whether  the  fair  candidates  for  emigra- 


292  THE    LAW    OF    MARRIAGE. 

tion,  with  all  its  drciwbacks,  do  not  exceed  the  limit 
of  the  funds  available  for  sending  them  over  the 
seas?  The  objection  made  above  must  therefore 
yield  to  the  pressure  of  circumstances,  for,  even 
at  the  heavy  cost  of  losing  their  attraction  in  male 
eyes,  women  cannot  be  expected  to  forego  the  means 
of  existence,  nor,  supposing  some  amongst  us  to  be 
sufficiently  active  and  enterprising  to  attack  science, 
and  to  become  professors  or  physicians,  ought  they  to 
be  denied  "  a  fair  field  and  no  favour."  If  they  fail, 
in  consequence,  to  obtain  husbands,  that  is  their 
affair.  Men  will,  naturally,  marry  according  to 
their  fancy.  Leave  to  women  the  choice  of  adapting 
themselves  to  the  taste  of  men ;  it  is  not  a  matter  for 
society  to  regulate.  But  I  have  done  with  this  (to 
me)  disheartening  subject,  for  the  present,  after 
adding  the  remark  once  made  by  a  distinguished 
foreign  nobleman,  to  myself,  in  reference  to  tlie 
leading  idea  of  this  essay.  "  There  is  no  country  in 
Europe,"  said  my  friend,  "in  which  women  are 
treated  with  so  much  injustice  as  in  England,  in  what 
regards  property." 

Volumes  might  be  written — nay,  are  written — 
about  the  difficulties  and  grievances  of  married  life ; 
but  I  maintain,  and  shall  maintain  to  the  end,  that 
the  first  of  all  remedial  measures  to  be  sought  for  by 
women,  and  for  which  they  should  clamour,  beg,  and 
agitate,  is  "  equality  of  rights  over  property  with  the 
other  sex."  Although  it  is  not  likely  that  unhappi- 
ness  will  ever  disappear  from  conjugal,  any  more 
than  from  single  life,  yet,  viewed  as  a  measure  dic- 
tated by  justice,  and  sanctioned  by  the  practice  of 
European  nations,   I  believe  that  equal  rights  over 


THE    LAW    OF    MARRIAGE.  293 

property  would  tend  to  raise  and  ameliorate  the  con- 
dition of  a  wife,  and,  by  so  much,  augment  the 
morality  and  comfort  of  the  household,  to  a  greater 
extent  than  any  other  change  I  could  point  out,  likely 
to  find  favour  with  English  modes  of  thought  and 
feeling. 


THE    END. 


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price.  The  great  success  which  has  attended  its  publication  shows  how  well 
suited  it  was  to  the  wants  of  the  reading  public  at  that  period.  Since  then  a 
fresh  class  of  readers  has  arisen,  and  the  establishment  of  Literary  Institu- 
tions, School  and  Tillage  Clubs,  Book  Hawking  Societies,  Parochial  and 
Lending  Libraries,  has  become  so  general,  that  it  appears  to  the  Publisher 
a  good  opportunity  to  disseminate  these  Volumes,  at  a  rate  which  shaU  place 
them  within  reach  of  the  less  wealthy  classes.  By  removing  the  impediment 
of  price,  he  hopes  to  throw  open  these  attractive  and  useful  Works  to  the 
^Million  ;  so  that  having  hitherto  been  the  delight  of  the  Parlour  and 
Drawing-room,  they  may  now  do  equally  good  service  in  the  Factory  and 
Workshop — in  the  Cottage  of  the  Peasant  and  Log-hut  of  the  Colonist — in 
the  Soldier's  Barrack  and  the  Sailor's  Cabin. 

The  Works  composing  the  "Colonial  and  Home  Library"  have  been 
selected  for  their  acknowledged  merit,  the  ability  of  their  authors,  and  are 
exclusively  such  as  are  calculated  to  please  all  classes  and  circles  of  readers. 
The  character  of  the  work  is  made.  It  is  so  well  known  and  esteemed  as 
no  longer  to  require  expensive  advertising,  so  that  the  publisher  is  enabled 
to  circulate  it  at  a  great  reduction  in  price. 

The  attention  of  the  Clergy,  of  Secretaries  of  YUlage  Reading-Clubs,  of 
Masters  of  Factories  and  Schools,  is  especially  invited  to  the  above  announce- 
ment and  the  lists  which  follow,  in  which  the  various  Works  have  been 
arranged  under  two  distinct  heads. 

Class  A. 

BIOGRAPHY,  HISTOEY,  AND   HISTOEIC   TALES. 

Class  B. 

VOYAGES,   TEAVELS,  AND  ADYENTIJEES. 


Each  Work  will  be  complete  in  itself,  and  may  be  obtained  separately, 
neatly  bound  in  cloth. 


*^*  For  Lint  of  Works  ncc  next  poge. 


12 


MR.  MURRAY'S  LIST  OF  NEW  WORKS. 


MUERAY'S 
HOME   AND    COLONIAL   LIBRARY. 


CLASS  A. 

fistoric  Calcs. 


II. 

ni. 

IV. 
V. 

VI. 

VII. 


HISTORY  of  the  SIEGE  of  GIBRAIi- 
TAB,  1779—83.  With  a  Description 
and  Account  of  that  Garrison.  Ey 
John  Diitnkwateb.    2s. 

The  AMBER  WITCH  — the  most  inter- 
esting Trial  for  Witchcraft  ever  knovra. 
By  Lady  Duff  Gobdo-V.    2s. 

LIVES  of  CROMWELL  and  BUNYAJST. 
By  Robert  Southey,  LL.D.    2s. 

LIFE,  and  EXPLOITS  of  Sir  FRANCIS 
DRAKE.    By  John  Bakrow.    2s. 

CAMPAIGNS  of  the  BRITISH  ARMY 
at  WASHINGTON.  By  the  Rev.  G.  K. 
Cij.v.Ki     2s. 

The  FRENCH  in  ALGIERS.  Translated 
by  Lady  Duff  Gordon.    2s. 

HISTORY  of  the  FALL  of  the  JESUITS 
in  the  18th  CENTURY.    2s. 


VIII.  LIVONIAN  TALES.    By  A  Lady.    2s. 
IX, 


LIFE   of   CONDE.     By  Lord   Ma  HON. 
3s.  6d. 

X.  SALES    BRIGADE   in   AFFGHANIS- 
TAN.    By  the  Rev.  G.  B.  Gleig.    2s. 

XI.  The  SIEGES  of  VIENNA.   Translated  by 
Lord  Ellesmere.    2s. 

Xn.  The  WAYSIDE  CROSS.  A  Tale  of  the 
Carhst  War.    2». 

Xin.  SCENES  from  the  WAR  of  LIBERA- 
TION in  GERMANY.  By  Sir  Alex- 
ander Duff  Gordon.    3s.  6d. 

XrV.  The  STORY  of  the  BATTLE  of  WATER- 
LOO.    By  Rev.  G.  R.  Gleig.    3s.  6d. 

XV.  ADVENTURES.  From  the  Autobiograr 
phy  of  Henry  Steffens.    2s. 

XVI.  LIVES  of  the  BRITISH  POETS  :  vrith  an 
Essay  on  English  Poetry.  By  Thomas 
Campbell.    3s.  6d. 

XVII.  HISTORICAL  and  CRITICAL  ESSAYS. 
By  Lord  JLiHON.    3s.  6d. 

XVIII.  LIFE  of  LORD  CLIVE.      By  the  Rev. 
G.  R.  Gleig.    3s.  6d. 

XIX.  STOKERS  and  POKERS;  or,  TheNorth- 
AVestern  Railway.  By  Sir  Francis  B. 
Head.    2s. 

yy  LIFE  of  Sir  THOMAS  MUNRO.  By  Rev. 
G.  R.  Gleig.    os.  6d. 


CLASS   B. 

f  ral)ds,  aiiij 


I.  The  BIBLE  in  SPAIN ;  or,  The  Ad- 
ventures of  an  Englishman  in  an 
Attempt  to  Circulate  the  Scriptures. 
By  George  Borrow.    3s.  6d. 

II.  The  GIPSIES  of  SPAIN  ;  their  Manners 
and  Customs.  By  George  Borrow. 
3s.  6d. 
III.  IV.  A  JOURNEY  through  INDIA,  from 
Calcutta  to  Bombay,  Ma<lras,  and  the 
Southern  Provinces.  By  Bishop  Heber. 
2  vols.  7s. 
V.  TRAVELS  in  the  HOLY  LAND.  By 
Captains  Irby  and  Mangles.    2s. 

VL  WESTERN  BARBARY,  its  Wild  Tribes 
and  Savage  Animals.  ByJ.  Drummond 
Hay.    2s. 
VII.  LETTERS  from  the   SHORES  of   the 
BALTIC.    By  a  Lady.    2s. 

Vni.  NOTES    and    SKETCHES    of     NEW 
SOUTH  WALES.  By  Mrs.  Meredith. 
2s. 
IX.  The  WEST  INDIES.    From  the  Journal 
of  M.  G.  Lewis.    2s. 

X.  SKETCHES  of  PERSIA.    By  Sir  JOHM 

M.\iC0LM.    3s.  6d. 
XI.  THIRTEEN  YEARS  at  the  COURT  of 
PEKIN.    By  Father  Ripa.    2s. 

XII.  XIII.  TYPEE  and  OMOO ;  or,  The  Marque- 
sas Islanders.  By  Herjian  Mf.t.vit.t.k. 
2  vols.     7s. 
XIV.  MEMOIRS  of  a  AHSSIONARY  in  CAN- 
ADA.   By  Rev.  J.  Abbott.    2s. 
XV.  LETTERS     from     MADRAS.      By    a 
Lady.    2s. 
XVI.  The    WILD  SPORTS    of  the    HIGH- 
LANDS.      By  Charles   Si.    John. 
3s.  6<Z. 
XVII.  RAPID   JOURNEYS   ACROSS    THE 
PAMPAS.   By  Sir  Fr.^cls  Head.  2s. 
XVIII.  GATHERINGS    FROM    SPAIN.      By 
Richard  Ford.    3s.  6(/. 
XIX.  A  VOYAGE  UP  THE  RIVER  AMA- 
ZON.   By  William  Edwards.    2s. 
XX.  A  POPULAR   ACCOUNT  of  INDIA. 
By  Rev.  Ch.\rles  Acl.\nd.    2s. 

XXI.  MEXICO   and    the    ROCKY   MOUN- 
TAINS.    By  George   F.    Ruxton. 
3s.  6d. 
XXII.  PORTUGAL  and  GALICIA.    By  Lord 

Carnarvon.    3s.  6rf, 
XXIII.  BUSH    LIFE    in    AUSTRALIA.      By 
Rev.  H.  W.  Hayoarth.    2s. 

XXrV.  ADVENTURES  in  the  LIBYAN  DE- 
SERT.   By  Baylb  St.  John.    2». 

XXV.  LETTERS  from  SIERRA  LEONE.     By 
a  Lady.    3s.  6d. 


14  DAY  USE 

RETURN  TO  DESK  FROM  WHICH  BORROWED 

LOAN  DEPT. 

This  book  is  due  on  the  last  date  stamped  below,  or 

on  the  date  to  which  renewed. 

Renewed  books  are  subject  to  immediate  recall. 


MAYS    1968^, 


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University  of  California 

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